Bring Me To Life : A Continuation
by I Got Tired of Waiting
Summary: COMPLETE :: SLASH :: The story of Severus and Harry and a portrayal of the ties between them, spanning over a century. :: Sequel to Amireal's PLEDGES with permission :: Revised and reposted November 2006
1. Prologue

**Bring Me To Life : A Continuation**  
by I Got Tired of Waiting

**Part None : Prologue**  
**Love Me When I'm Gone**

"Harry," a soft voice spoke from his right. "Harry, it's time." Soft hands gently placed on his arm drew him away.

_Away._  
Away from Severus.

"No!"

"Harry, it's time to go," the persistent voice insisted, the soft hands still tugging on his arm.

"Harry, don't do this, you have to let go," a deeper voice said from his other side. Strong hands gripped his arm. More touches from behind.

_Let go?  
No. No, I don't want to go.  
I want to stay here, stay with Severus.  
Severus!_

_Damn you, Severus, where did you go?  
Why Aren't You Here? With Me?_

_Alone. Oh gods, alone.  
So long since I've been alone, you were always there, ever a part of my mind._

Dizzy... falling... falling...  
_Got to go to Severus._

"Harry! No!" Strong arms grabbed him, stopped him from falling into the still open grave. Pulling him back, back to--

Workers in the distance, shovels ready, watching the tableau incuriously; they'd seen it all before.

--reality. Looking up from the grave, he saw the misty sky. _Even the sky weeps for my Severus,_ he thought with some satisfaction. He stared at the woman with her lined face and silver hair and the tall stooped man standing beside him, fascinated by his snowy hair, full snowy beard, and snowy blue eyes.

_Albus?_ He shook his head. _No, Albus is dead. Has been for years. Who were all these people?_

He couldn't remember.

"Harry, we must go back to the castle," the voices insisted.

Soft and firm hands, softly spoken voices pulled him away, turning him to walk across the damp grass down by the lake. A shudder passed through him, the grief threatening to swallow him whole.

_My soul, he took my soul with him._

"I am nothing now."

"Hush, Harry," the soft voice soothed. "It will be all right. Come with us. That's it... one step at a time."

_Harry, that's who I am... was.  
I am nothing now. He's gone.  
Can't feel him.  
Can't touch him.  
I'm not real anymore._

For the first time in the few days since Severus had taken ill, he cried. He stumbled on a blurry rock and started to fall. The voices and hands stopped walking, catching his gaunt body before it could strike the ground. Warm arms enveloped him from the front, strong arms from behind; in the misty rain they held him lovingly, tightly, as he poured his soul out with their tears. The embrace was different, wrong somehow, but he couldn't fathom why.

_Can't think without him.  
Can't concentrate.  
My mind is not my own anymore.  
Half of it is gone._

"Can't think..."

"What, Harry?" the woman asked, pulling away.

"Can't think," he repeated, choking on his tears.

They continued walking. In the distance even the castle looked forlorn, the banners all black.

_Did I change the banners?  
I remember doing so once before._

The students in their dark robes crowded the windows.

_Can't stop my mind, so many memories._

Disjointed images flashed across his mind's eye, the feast and famine of a long life. Kaleidoscope images, shifting wildly as he tried to collect them.

A wild wedding... Severus' whispered "I love you" spoken for the first time, completing a heart he'd thought already full... A funeral... Two people clinging to each other... watching them, not really understanding their loss... stupidly thinking they would be all right since they still had each other... a birth, the memory fading as he tried to remember something important about it.

He stared at his hands for answers. Startled, he saw Old Man Hands. "When did we all get so old?" he asked aloud.

He heard a chuckle. Another old woman, a half-smile on her tear-streaked face said in a passable imitation of Severus' sarcasm, "We didn't get old, Harry. _They_ just got too young."

He remembered that now, just as he knew her name was Ginny. Ginny. Ginny and Neville's Wedding... and Severus' laughter. Something about their laughter... Their wedding night gift... Severus' idea, that one, wicked man.

_Severus always did have the good ideas--was always thinking._

"I was always the one behind," he said diffidently.

"No, you weren't. You just thought differently than he did," came a soft reply.

Startled, he looked at her, the face and body old, but the eyes, the dark eyes--oh, so young. He remembered her. They could still read each other, even after all these years. "He always enjoyed talking with you, Hermione. And Draco." He winced when he saw the shadow pass over her face. "He always said you were the 'brightest crayon in the box'."

Her eyes crinkled at the corners. "I know, but he _loved_ you... and no one else," she replied softly, her hand gripping his arm tighter, her eyes widening in alarm as he slid back into himself, back to a time he wasn't so alone.

_Her eyes... dark eyes... filled with love..._

A large hole threatened to engulf him. He started to sag, somehow knowing the voices with their strong but oddly gentle hands would keep him from falling, falling into the void, following Severus.

_It's not fair.  
You promised you'd never leave me!  
Why?_

"Why?" he cried plaintively to the heavens.

His broken heart heard only silence.

TBC


	2. A Cause For Celebration

**Bring Me To Life : A Continuation**  
by I Got Tired of Waiting

**Part I : The Past to the Present**  
**A Cause For Celebration**

The champagne cork flew far in the air just ahead of the stream of pale liquid rocketing out of the bottle held in Severus' hands. Head thrown back, he chortled, the mirth making all the wrinkles on his face squeeze together until his eyes almost disappeared.

Not quite as fast as he once was, Harry nonetheless dodged the foamy stream with instincts honed from years of dodging Bludgers. Behind him, Ron wasn't so lucky. A loud splash and shocked yelp later, Ron stood frozen, the icy liquid running down his face and beard onto his new robes. One look at his stunned face set everyone laughing. Hermione bent double, her hands on her knees as Harry leaned against her helplessly. With a shake of his head flinging sparkling droplets onto the crowd around him, Ron chuckled good-naturedly.

Severus, his eyes dancing, triumphantly shouted, "Bull's eye! How absolutely, delightfully perfect, Weasley! I believe that _almost_ makes us even."

"What for?" Ron asked, grinning.

"Ahem. I seem to recall a green slime covering almost every surface of my Potions classroom when you and _Mr Potter,_" he pointedly glanced at Harry, "decided to substitute Blasting Beetle Eyes for bat's wings." As Ron sputtered, he added, "Ten points to Slytherin." The crowd roared.

Surveying the familiar faces around him, Severus recognized many who had attended either his or Harry's Potions classes at Hogwarts. At one time or another, each individual had, in varying degrees of severity, exploded _something_ in their classroom. Except one--Hermione--and she didn't count as she was in a 'class' all by herself.

A mental groan: _Oh, that was so bad._

_Well, it's true. Neville was the unmitigated disaster, not her. I never did understand why she always paired with him. Damn, I keep aiming for him and missing._

_Pity, it was pity. That and we had a keen desire to survive the class; she just drew the short straw. Oh, and you're missing Neville because Ginny keeps diverting it. How do you think Ron got hit? Ginny has her own flair for vengeance._

_Lucky sod._

With renewed vigour, Severus shook the bottle once more, releasing yet another stream of foamy liquid. "Revenge will be mine," he declared, smirking. People scattered, laughing, as he nailed yet another victim.

Harry moved off to the side and, with a small grin on his face, admired his husband's style as he worked the crowd, drawing everything out until it had been savoured to its fullest. Adept at the theatrics of his position, it had been many generations since the school had seen a Headmaster with such a flair for drama, although it hadn't always been this way.

_Quite a change from the dour, sarcastic, reclusive Potions master of old. Only took you a century or so._ Harry laughed to himself.

_Don't forget ironic, brilliant, witty, graceful down long hallways, able to sweep robes better than anyone else..._

_All right, all right. I get the picture; don't tempt me in front of all these people. However, you did forget one small thing from before you became so urbane._

_Oh? Really? Let me see. Ah yes--handsome, debonair, brilliant--did I already mention brilliant?_ At the shake of Harry's head, Severus mentally shrugged. _What?_

_Lonely. You forgot lonely._

_You know, Potter,_ he started with a growl, then deflated. _Maybe I should just get you a hammer--it might be less painful._

Harry chuckled at the mental image of hammering his husband's head; Severus reciprocated with a picture of him grabbing the hammer and using it to hang Harry's entrails to the wall. The typical exchange cheered Harry immeasurably; tonight's announcements would present enough difficulties without adding more to it.

Severus Snape, Headmaster of Hogwarts, stepped to the front of the stage-like area raised at the back of the Great Hall where they'd just finished dinner. Cleared of the supper-things and the toasting-things, the giant room now held the speaking-things; the long neat rows of comfortable chairs, stretching all the way back to the doors, easily seated the several hundred people who'd come to celebrate his anniversary. Behind him, the staff sedately waited, the older ones in the back row already nodding off from the heavy meal.

Of course, if they wanted the champagne, they had to hear Severus speak, and he waited patiently for everyone to settle in. Rumour had been strong this year that something Special and Unusual was planned. So what in years past had been a huge pile of regrets and a short stack of RSVP's became this year's 'in' place to be, with every invitation accepted.

Sitting quietly with the audience, Harry carefully placed himself close enough for Severus to see him clearly without straining, but far enough away not to draw attention; it had ever been this way. Beside him sat Ron and Hermione, behind him Ginny and Neville. He knew their extended families were interspersed throughout the crowd; he'd lost count of their numbers, although he was quite certain Hermione could have told him, down to the 'halves' not yet born, had he really wanted to know. With Remus and Arabella in front of him, he felt secure surrounded by so many people he knew and loved.

Severus raised his hands; an expectant silence fell over the crowd. "How many of you actually remember Albus Dumbledore?" he began, frowning with what Harry knew was sadness--rather than ire--at the smattering of hands throughout the audience. "So I thought. And since I'm _not_ old, I have to ask: damn it, when did the rest of you get so young?" He waited out the appreciative chuckles. "I often wonder what Albus would say if he saw us today. With so much change, would he recognize us at all?"

Listening to the dulcet tones more than the words, Harry found himself asking himself much the same question, not in general, but about 'them'. Severus made it sound so simple, when Harry knew better.

He looked at his hands folded quietly in his lap. Old hands they were now, the fine hairs on the back just as white as the wild halo surrounding his equally wrinkled face. It seemed unfair somehow that, being the older of the two, Severus had aged better; the long silver hair, pulled back from his face in a long queue, accentuated his still-strong face. Perhaps a bit craggier, he thought ruefully, but at least Severus' nose didn't droop as bad as Harry's arse.

_Your arse is fine as it is._ Severus commented.

Harry snorted, not deigning to answer; he knew better about that, too.

So much had happened in those years and Harry wasn't certain which had changed them more--their life's bond or their life's work. Oh, on the surface, he supposed they weren't _too_ much different. Although they didn't move as fast as they once had and their blood didn't quicken with quite the same frequency, their backs were still as straight, their clear eyes still reflected an inner wit as keen and sharp as any in their youth. The spell kept them obscenely healthy.

Nor had their routines changed all that much. Severus still prowled the halls of Hogwarts, his spare but loose, long-legged gait sent his robes billowing out gracefully around him. Harry still enjoyed those rare moments when, turning a corner or entering a long hallway, he could surreptitiously watch Severus' ground-eating pace. He still found the dark robes flowing, the silky hair flying, the panther-like grace with which Severus moved one of the most arousing things he'd ever seen. Severus didn't walk, he stalked. And pounced. Harry truly liked the pouncing parts.

_Picture me licking my lips in anticipation._

_Oh, behave! You're about to make a spectacle of yourself. Wouldn't do to blow your image at this late date, now would it?_ He felt Severus' mock-pout and sent him his laughter.

And his blatant approval as he openly admired the slender figure making another point with a graceful wave of his elegant hands. It never ceased to amaze him how tasty _his_ old man still looked in black: flowing black robes over a black mandarin collared shirt tucked into his favourite...

_How ever did you talk me into leather trousers?_

_I believe sexy-as-hell tight arses came into it somewhere._

Severus snorted. _Well, something came._

Harry's answering smile faded as he remembered the other things that used to 'adorn' their attire. How glad he'd been the day they'd retired the weapons belt worn low on the hips, one side of which had held a quick-release knife holster, the other a small but powerful Muggle pistol. The old jest about the leather trou only served to cover the stark reality; its strength and flexibility easily supported the special pockets near the calf concealing their respective collections of Muggle daggers. Other holsters at the sleeves of their robes served a similar function.

_I sometimes miss those robes. They were far more comfortable and certainly less fussy than the current fashion._

_I don't. They were too--Muggle._

_Not everything bad is Muggle, Harry._

_True, but not by much. And the day you follow 'fashion' is the day I wear day-glo pink._

A raised brow followed by a thoughtful, _Pink, eh?_ made him smile. Considering the current foppish styles, and Severus' disdainful opinion of them, Harry felt reasonably safe with his statement.

Severus looked good tonight, but then again, Severus could make sackcloth appealing. Studying Severus' traditional robes critically, Harry thought the older style they'd once adopted suited Severus' leanness better than the draped black silk he currently wore. Of course, that he'd looked dangerous and lethal in them had never influenced Harry's reaction at all.

There was no comparison, really. The older style had been more like an open collarless coat or cloak, yet fuller, falling several inches short of the floor. The open sleeves had not been as wide and deep at the cuff as what Severus was currently wearing. Harry smiled. Severus had wanted the cloaks to fall straight from the tailored shoulders like a Muggle duster, but Harry had insisted on the 'billow' of which he was so fond...

_I admit there were some 'benefits' derived; I almost didn't walk for a week after your compelling 'persuasion' as to the 'desired' fit of my cloak. It would have served you right had I been permanently disabled by your enthusiasm._

_I didn't see you complaining about the results, just the practical application of the theory as McGonagall was wont to say. And if memory serves, I was quite comfortable with you nice and warm between me and the cold stone floor._

The silence in the hall caught his attention.

_Um, Severus? Perhaps you should resume? While I can think of several tempting things that talented mouth of yours can do other than spew such pompous drivel, your audience is..._

_The only drivel I'm hearing is--never mind._

Harry almost laughed aloud. _While I've always enjoyed your rather intense 'I'm-About-To-Hungrily-Devour-Harry' stare, your guests are growing weary of your distraction._

_Wonderful. And who says I was staring at you?_

With which, Severus continued his speech. "We have secured our families; certainly he would have approved. How many generations have been born? Family was important to Albus; he protected me, gave me his abiding respect, not only because he was my blood-kin, my great-uncle, but because he believed everyone deserved affection." He paused to let the ripples of surprise subside before continuing, "To him, family was a celebration. I believe he would have heartily approved of how we've extended it, changed it, nurtured it."

_You are my only family now,_ Severus sent him, somewhat subdued, a picture of a laughing girl with chestnut hair flashing through his mind.

_I know. I miss her, too, but they're also our family,_ Harry soothed, looking at Ron and Hermione. He suddenly realised that most of their 'family', except Lenore, came from him, not Severus. Arabella and Remus were the only two remaining his husband could claim as friends of his own. He'd never thought about Severus' accommodation of his friends, how intrusive his life had been; it must have been torture for the reclusive Potions master.

_It had its moments. For a while I felt like a baby-sitter, but growing up has a way of equalizing things. Adding Draco to the mix certainly made it far more interesting, and at least Hermione was smart enough to work most of it out on her own and keep them 'occupied'. That really left only you to deal with. You were, at best, a confounding pain in the arse and an utterly shaggable brat. At worst--_

_Just don't go all gushy on me, all right?_ He lightly chuckled and felt, rather than heard, Severus' rather caustic reply.

Ron and Hermione--and Draco. Harry slid his eyes to glance at his friends, now two where once were three, living together while Hermione and Draco finished their degrees and Ron finished his Auror's training. They'd thrived and, after they ceased to be a novelty, were called The Trio. However, they'd met some obstacles when they tried to get married. Not that this had stopped them from cohabiting.

And breeding.

Shortly after she finished her advanced studies, Hermione found herself pregnant with their first child, a move Harry always suspected was engineered by Severus in conjunction with Ron and Draco. Severus was the only one who prepared her contraceptive potion and he was too good a Potions master to have made such a simple mistake.

_It was a simple mistake, I was momentarily distracted, if you recall._

_Oh? How so?_

_I was brewing it the night you decided to come down and "assist" me._ He sent a graphic image of his memory.

_Oh._

_As eloquent as ever, Potter,_ he drawled.

Harry covered his laugh with a cough. _So you're saying Seth is my fault?_

_Well, if the hat fits... You're the one who caused the problem in the first place, with your lovely distraction._

_Oh--bugger off._

_Anytime, Potter._ He chuckled. _Anytime._

Harry wondered with wry humour what Severus would do if he took him up on the offer--here, right now. A frustrated mental growl filling his head gave him his answer.

That Christmas had been memorable. For the first time in years they were going to the Burrow for Christmas, but their plans went awry when Poppy had a family emergency, leaving only Flitwick and Trelawney to watch the small handful of students remaining at Hogwarts for the holidays. So the Burrow came to them. On Christmas Eve, a jubilant Ron, a dazed Draco, and a weary eight-month pregnant Hermione arrived to celebrate the Holidays with them. The rest of the Weasleys, excepting George who stayed on, would join them for Christmas Day.

Celebrating Christmas Eve, they'd none-too-gently ribbed Hermione about her ungainliness, yet earned a softening around her eyes with their open wonder as they gingerly touched the strong movements under her loose robes. Severus had teased the two men mercilessly at their part in it, helping them hide their fear of the upcoming birth while levitating small rubber balls on Hermione's belly to watch the resident 'mountain troll' kick them off.

The blizzard had come upon them unexpectedly in the night--as did the collapse of the Floo Network--and the labour pains Hermione started in the wee hours of Christmas Day.

Truly isolated with the Floo down and the Hogwarts anti-Apparation wards up, Ron and Harry coached with pale determination, their hearts frozen at times by Hermione's panting screams and her body's relentless effort. Severus and Draco, with the small knowledge they had of such things, delivered the child, a healthy boy, but they couldn't staunch the blood. So much blood. Overwhelmed by her increasingly frailty, George lost it.

Ron and Draco frantically searched Madam Pomfrey's library and finally found the spells they needed, while Severus and Harry did all they could to keep her alive and George calm.

The baby was huge with his lusty cries and his bright red Weasley hair and grey Malfoy eyes. It was at this time Hermione began to have her radical ideas about the bloodlines. Harry smiled at the memory of the comforting domesticity of the two men framing her on the bed while she nursed the baby. Setherus they named him; Seth they called him. Seth was their first godchild.

_The first of how many? Never mind--I'm not certain I really want to know._

_What a relief, because I lost count quite a long time ago._

Family, something they acquired in dribs and drabs, sometimes seemingly by accident. Like Ginny and Neville. Severus had already cautiously considered Ginny a friend when she'd stoutly defended them on Harry's eighteenth birthday. Then she'd started dating Neville seriously. He soon learned it was 'love me, love my boyfriend' when he made the mistake of baiting Neville in front of her. After experiencing her famous temper firsthand, Severus wisely left most of his sarcasm at home--at least where Neville was concerned.

Which partially explained Severus' surprise when they asked him to officiate at their wedding. He recalled Severus' teasing face and words as he bound them, the cords turning from satin to beautiful ivy once woven, the softening around Severus' eyes meaning little to them but everything to Harry. They never guessed the depth of his affections towards them; Severus would never have expended the effort if he hadn't loved them in his own way.

Afterwards, Severus planned his exquisite mischief with all the care only a Slytherin could devise. Neville was convinced he'd hexed the cake (he had) and the stunned look on their faces when they went on the enchanted ballroom floor for the first dance was beyond price. Harry remembered Severus' laughter--so rare then, but all the more special for it. He chuckled, remembering their wedding night gift--Neville stammering and Ginny blushing. Severus' idea, that one, wicked man.

_I'm still not certain they knew what to do with it,_ Severus thought with a very evil chuckle.

_Well, it certainly wasn't for a lack of explanation--you made my ears flame._

_It wasn't for their ears._

Severus' eloquence once again caught his attention. "We've seen the beginnings of two centuries, witnessed the craziness of the Muggles, and fought hard to keep our Wizarding world separate and secluded even as the Muggles hunted us as magical slaves for their senseless wars."

Such horror, a life's effort; it seemed unreal how easily it distilled into such simple words.

They'd ventured into the Muggle's society, Harry's previous life there making him the perfect spy. Sometimes with The Trio, they'd venture forth into the mundane to observe, later to fight. At first they just wanted to see what the furore was all about with the little Muggle wars springing up all over the globe.

Hermione was worried (and rightly so as it turned out) that the smaller conflicts would ignite (as they had so often done in Muggle history) into a full global war. Each incident by itself was nothing to worry about but, taken as a whole, they signalled the beginnings of The Devastation.

Responding to an unspoken premonition, Severus took him beyond their morning stretching exercises and added to their routine the Asian ways of defending one's self with and without magic. Together they gained the expertise to use the daggers and pistols integrated into their defence as skill and circumstance warranted.

In turn, Harry taught him Muggle customs and slang, slowly eroding the precision of Severus' sharp tongue. Oh, he sometimes enjoyed the confusion caused when he used a Muggle phrase, relishing the subtle victory over a clueless victim of his double entendres, but mostly he found the corruption of his honed language insupportable. Harry often endured some rather lengthy discourses on the subversive nature of Muggle language.

But there'd been some fun as well. For a very brief time before war broke out in England, Severus introduced him to the 'alternative' night life of London. While he didn't much like the sometimes-desperate frenzy of the bars and other establishments Severus managed to find, he did have to admit it was rather amusing to experience the rare freedom of socializing where worry was reduced to wondering whether the biker standing next you was the one who had just pinched your arse.

_Dreaming of your biker friend again? He was so attractive._

_Oh yes, enchanting--if you go for the twenty stone hairy gorilla, fake leather beer-belly type._

_Ah, but he had an admirable taste for appetizing arses._

_Ri-ight. He lusted after yours, but pinched mine._

_I got you out of there in one piece. didn't I?_

_Uh-huh, but not before we almost wore our wands out with all those Obliviate spells. And I just loved running one step ahead of the Aurors chasing us. I don't even want to know what would have happened had they caught us!_

_Well, yes, but they didn't, did they? And they didn't have a clue as to who those 'renegade' Wizards were. Still don't. They still talk about us down at the Ministry,_ Severus thought rather proudly. _Plus, even you must admit, the sex was utterly fantastic that night._

Harry had no reply to this. Severus was, as usual, absolutely correct, right down to his delectable arse.

Unfortunately, _that_ little escapade was one of the last light-hearted things they did for many years. As the Muggles discovered the hidden wizarding world, it was a short step for them to decide they could use these magical people to their advantage against their enemies. The Muggles quickly became adept at capturing and enslaving wizards and witches, using their families as leverage. Some Muggle-born joined them willingly, their ties with the wizarding world easily severed as the ancient Mudblood prejudice of the Purebloods had left nothing but a bitter desire for revenge.

Growing more desperate with each passing year, Severus' biting humour devolved into a soul-eating, bitter cynicism as the Muggle's ingenuity intruded further into their daily lives. With each failure to stop the abductions, he despaired and mourned the loss of the good people who refused to submit. And at times, when it could be borne in silence no longer, Severus would vent his vituperation, usually at Harry, who bore each episode stoically and never took it personally; he knew how much Severus suffered.

It was much worse than the times with Voldemort. He'd at least been only one wizard with a finite group of followers. _This_ was genocide, pitting the small Wizarding world against the vast resources of the Muggle world, a world very few of them truly understood. Suddenly, the Muggle-born who remained were no longer pariahs; many were recruited and trained as Aurors, their knowledge and way of thinking now invaluable.

For an interminable time, life revolved around rescuing wizards from the clutches of the Muggles. Ron, a powerful Auror for many years, still headed the Muggle Response Team responsible for not only retrieving Wizarding families out of Muggle installations but also keeping pace with Muggle surveillance techniques which, with their war technologies, grew by leaps and bounds every year. Drawn into it, Harry and Severus had helped in the field where possible while trying not to get caught themselves.

It had been close at times, too close.

TBC


	3. Merely This, and Nothing More

**Bring Me To Life : A Continuation**  
by I Got Tired of Waiting

**Part I : The Past to the Present**  
**Intermission One : Merely This, and Nothing More**

Right after they started extending the Hogwarts wards over the outskirts of Hogsmeade, Remus and Ron had come to the school with two other Aurors, bearing some daunting news. The moment they'd imparted it to Severus, he'd growled and then, saying something about needing Harry, stalked away with his usual speed and grace. Following him, the four Aurors stopped in a colonnade near the Quidditch Pitch; they didn't want to alarm the students with their presence.

Harry had been up on his broom watching some First Years try their brooms out for the first time. Severus stood by the side a few moments admiring his skill--arms crossed, alertly watching the neophytes while nonchalantly hovering a few feet off the ground; his legs gripping the broom were all that kept him aloft.

Severus knew what those legs could do--how strong they were. _Not now, Severus._ Shaking his head at this interruption to his purpose, he strode across the pitch and called out to Harry.

Ever aware of Severus' scrutiny, Harry took one look at the stern face and called the students back to the ground, dismissing them to their common rooms until their next class. Once the disappointed First Years were well on their way back to the castle, Harry touched down and followed Severus, his custom broom thrown over his shoulder.

They stopped at the colonnade where Ron, James Boll (know as Jims), Patricia Parker (called Pat), and Remus impatiently waited. Once the introductions had been made, Severus was succinct in his explanation. "Ron has come with the news that six children have been taken from Hogsmeade out of the Primary School, their teacher dead. They're asking us to join them because of the shielding spell we've been developing. They'll escort us out of there; our job is to protect the children."

He looked significantly at Harry. _One of them is Colin._

_Oh, fuck!_

_My thoughts exactly. We must get him out of there safely, or all of this--all of this will have been for nothing._

_I know, I know. We'll get him, promise!_

_There you go, making promises I may have to keep. Damn you,_ he thought without rancour.

Harry nodded, then asked, "Do we know where they've been taken?"

As Ron's talent was the ability to focus his powers like a divining rod to find missing wizards and witches, he'd already pin-pointed the children's location.

Remus briefed them. "Of course, we know it's a trap. The Muggles have no need for them; they're too young and untrained," he explained. "The children are being held on the outskirts of London in the European Command Base. It's obvious they're using the children as bait to lure adult rescuers." He growled. "Sodding cowards."

Jims, a recent recruit grinned and said with youthful enthusiasm, "Instead, they'll get us!"

Pat, a veteran Auror, said nothing but rolled her eyes and gave Jims the same look she would have to a puppy who'd wet the floor.

The plan was fairly simple as plans went--they would Apparate in, go invisible, find the children, and collect them. Severus and Harry would shield the children during the search. Once clear of the base and its anti-Apparation wards cast by the turncoat Mudbloods, they would return to Hogsmeade proper.

After first changing into their fighting gear and notifying Poppy and the stand-in Headmaster, Sinistra, of their mission, they set the plan in motion. The six Apparated about two kilometres away from their goal in an old alley. Donning invisibility cloaks and illusion spells, they crept out of the safety of the alley and ran at a ground-eating pace the remaining distance to the installation. Creeping through the check-point at the entrance gate, they made their way inside.

The problem with invisibility cloaks and spells is they only hide the wearer or caster from visual detection; however, they're vulnerable to touch and, as they would soon find out, infrared. The Base Commandant followed their progress with satisfaction and no small measure of respect for the courage these wizards exhibited in the first place. Of course, children were children regardless of race; had it been his stolen, he would have done the same thing. He'd counted on it, in fact.

He patiently waited until they had five of the children and were near the sixth before springing his trap. He'd no intentions of letting any of them go; the six brats were useful as leverage (no one liked to see a child tortured) but, if the adults proved stubborn, were a reasonable sacrifice to get his hands on six of their Aurors, for that was what he supposed he had.

Which was just too damn bad for him.

"Harry, watch out!" Severus cried, ducking to the side as a group of Muggle soldiers rounded the corner, dart guns in hand. Busy maintaining the shield around him and the children, Harry instantly moved behind them and kept them moving even as he extended the shield to cover Severus as well.

"Don't worry about us," Ron called to them as he dodged another dart and sent one of the Muggles flying into the wall. "Just find the last one and get the hell out of here. We'll watch your backs."

Worried, but knowing Ron was right, Harry followed Severus as they cautiously shepherded the little ones ahead while Remus, walking backwards, took the rear. They reached the last cell. While Severus busied himself with the lock, Harry concentrated on holding the shield. The spell was only designed to hold two adults in relative safety against the darts not two adults and five children. He didn't know how much longer he could hold it with Severus unable to help him maintain it, spending his energy instead on a stubborn Muggle lock.

Ron rounded the corner, nearly stumbling into Remus. His face was grim. "We lost Pat and Jims," he told Remus in an undertone, but Harry heard anyway. "There's about a dozen more coming." Calling over to Severus, he shouted, "Just shoot the damn thing, we don't have time!"

Hating the firearm, Severus nevertheless pulled it out of his holster and, taking careful aim, shot the lock out of the door. With the deafening after-echoes ringing in their ears, one of the children panicked, running out of the protection of the shield.

Harry wasn't quick enough to grab him. Dropping the shield long enough to send a retrieving spell after him, he hauled the boy back into the group. Severus, in the meantime, had grabbed the last child; as he straightened after putting her down with the others, three holes blossomed bright red in his chest, trails running black down his dark robes. Spinning in place, he fell without a sound.

The terrible sound of gunfire coming around the corner was deafening. The Muggles had thrown away their dart guns for real ones once they'd realised the invading wizards were armed.

"SEVERUS!" he shouted even as he staggered, the weakness flooding him from Severus' injury. He went down on one knee, desperately trying to re-establish the shield but was unable to see past the white-hot pain behind his eyes. Dropping down, though, saved his life as the bullets meant for him spun Ron around--two rounds in his shoulder, another to his gut.

Harry later reflected that it only takes an instant to go from sane to berserk. Intimately he knew how it felt to lose his control, to draw in the tremendous power, fuelled by his weakness, his fear, and his all-consuming, righteous rage, and then to release it with uncontrolled, thoughtless, violent savagery. Remus would later tell him he'd shone bright with his power.

Streaks of orange energy flew out of Harry's arms and hands, immolating the entire contingent of Muggles racing towards them. Large enough to encompass them all, the shield resumed, glowing a bright orange. The sparks shooting off it singed the walls around them.

Then, doing the impossible, Harry Apparated them, six children and four adults, to the safety of the Hogwarts' infirmary. Through the Muggle shielding, through the Hogwarts wards, through the very stone of the castle itself, Harry brought them home.

Small wonder he'd been unconscious for days.

Harry awoke to the sound of crying. Cocooned in warmth, the press of warm bodies was soothing, but the firm mattress and the memories of too much time spent previously in such a bed, told him he was in the infirmary--again.

Bodies? He opened an eye. With what he saw, he opened the other one for good measure to make certain he wasn't seeing things.

There was more than one person in the bed. In fact, there were three people in the bed--two big, one very small.

Severus lay on his side facing him, his face haggard but alive. Usually when they woke like this, he and Severus were draped over each other, the contact speeding their healing. But now?

Now there was a little girl kneeling on the bed between them and it was her soft crying which had awakened him. He studied her closely, very confused as to why she was here. _She can't be more than four,_ he thought. Her face was hauntingly familiar.

With a jolt, he realised she was the last girl Severus had rescued from the Muggles.

When Severus got shot.

The little girl kept touching Severus' face with her tiny hand, all the while crying and saying, "Wake up. Wake up, please," over and over.

She'd obviously been doing it for a while, hence the tears. She looked frightened and Harry wracked his brains trying to figure out how to stop her and get her off the bed before Severus, notoriously bad with small children, woke up and _really_ scared her.

He hesitantly reached out a hand, ruefully admitting to himself that he wasn't much better with really young ones than Severus was. He touched her arm.

She jerked back her hand and stared at him, terror in her eyes. Harry smiled at her, trying to ease her fears. She stopped and tilted her head at him, a million questions in her eyes.

"Why won't he wake up?" she asked quite reasonably for someone who was snuffling loudly.

"He's very tired," Harry replied.

"Why is he so tired?" she asked.

Harry considered her a moment and realised he'd no idea how to do this. "He's hurt," he finally said.

"I know, he was standing next to me and then he fell. Why did he fall?"

"Because of the hurt."

She considered this a moment and then asked, "Who are you?"

"I'm Harry."

"Why are you in the same bed?"

_Well, hell,_ he thought, uncertain how to reply. He decided the simple truth might be easier. "I'm here because Severus is my husband."

She paused, seeming to accept his explanation at face value. "His name is Sezruth?"

He chuckled. "Close enough."

"You have a nice laugh and a nice face."

"Why thank you," he said seriously. "You have a nice face, too," he added lamely. "What's your name?"

"Lenore. My Mum named me after a poem," she added and then burst into tears.

Harry struggled to sit up and, without thinking, opened his arms to her. Without any hesitation, she crawled into his lap and nestled in his arms against his chest, the sobs shaking her small body.

Harry sat very still, not certain what to do. He decided he'd act like it was Hermione the few times she'd cried. So he held her firmly, but not so firm she'd feel trapped. He stroked her hair, rocked her a bit, and little by little her sobs subsided into little hiccups. She buried her face and rubbed it against his vest. He loosened the hug, letting her pull back, her face all blotchy and pink.

"Are you all right?" he asked her gently.

"My m-mu-mum's in the Hinterlands now. I want my mum back," she snuffled.

_Shit. Now what?_ The great and wise Harry Potter, 67 years-old had absolutely no idea what to say. So he rocked her a bit and then it came to him.

"My mum's there, too. I expect they'll be friends."

Her face brightened. "Oh, do you really think so?" she asked.

"Yes, I really think so. My mum likes to meet new people, I'm certain she'd like your mum."

About this time, Harry began to hear the first rumblings that were Severus coming awake. Not wanting him to scare her, he thought _Severus, are you awake?_

_I am thinking, therefore I must be awake._

_How are you feeling, love?_

_Like I mis-stepped in front of the Hogwarts Express--while it was moving._

Harry chuckled out loud.

"What's so funny?" she demanded.

_What the hell is that?_ Severus asked.

Without thinking he replied, "Severus is waking up."

_Why is it here?_

_Good question. I don't know, but I'll ask. Oh, by the by, it's the little girl you rescued last; her name is Lenore._

"If he's waking up, why aren't his eyes opening?" she asked.

"Because he's lazy and doesn't want to get up yet. He wants to know why you're here."

"How can you know that? He hasn't said anything!"

_Yes Harry, how can you know that?_ Severus mimicked in a high little mental voice. _And I am not lazy, my head hurts abominably._

"Stop that, Severus; it's annoying," he said out loud. To her he replied, "Severus and I can talk in our heads. He says his head hurts."

She moved out of his lap and back onto the bed and then put her face very close to Severus'. At the same time, he opened his eyes. The two of them stared at each other, a few inches apart, dark eyes to Delft. Glaring, he reared his head back, startling her. She fell back on the bed and, crawling over to Harry, wrapped her arms around him and started to cry again.

At a loss, Harry glared at Severus. _That was bloody brilliant._

_Double damn. Why is the creature wailing and, more important, when will it shut up?_

He cradled her. "Hush now, it's all right," he murmured into her hair.

_Nice work, Severus._

_I didn't do anything!_ he protested.

_Uh-huh, and I suppose it was your brilliant wit and charm that overcame her._

_She startled me, that's all,_ he sent sullenly.

_Gods, don't you start too. That all I need, two of you snuffling._

"Hush now, you scared him. That's all, no need to cry now is there?"

Severus snorted. _She did not scare me,_ he sent vehemently.

She sniffled, wiping her face on his vest, which was by now quite soggy. "I scared _him_?" she asked.

"Yup. That's why he pulled back. You were ferocious."

She giggled and crawled out of his lap to face Severus again. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to scare you," she said quite contritely.

_Severus, behave!_

"It's all right," he croaked, his voice unused for several days. "Apology accepted."

_Magnanimous of you..._

_Don't start. My head hurts too much to argue with you._

_Ah, you're only saying that because you know I'm right._

_Harry, please understand I have only your best intentions in mind when I say--SOD OFF!_

Harry laughed out loud again. Lenore looked askance at him and then looked at Severus, his eyes closed, a wave of pain running across his face.

"Why are you laughing at him? He hurts." she asked suspiciously.

"I'm sorry. He said something funny."

"What?"

_Yes, Harry, tell the little girl what I said._

_Prat!_

Harry turned beet red. "Uh, well, it was something grown-ups say to each other." He held his breath, hoping she wouldn't ask for further explanation and released it on a sigh; she seemed to accept it at face value.

"Why are you here, little one?" Severus asked uncomfortably, but gently, after clearing his throat.

He was always surprising Harry.

"I wanted to thank you and tell you I was really sorry. I'm supposed to be asleep, but I heard Uncle George tell Aunt Aggie that you were hurt bad and that it was all my fault." She started crying softly again.

_What the hell is she talking about?_ Severus asked.

_She was the last girl you rescued right before--_ he couldn't finish the thought.

_Before what?_ He eyed Harry suspiciously.

_Before you were shot._

Severus chuckled. _Oh, is that why my chest feels like I have Hagrid sitting on it? I remember her. Spunky little thing--she wanted to know what took us so long._ His face fell as he suddenly remembered. _Colin?_

_Safe, Severus. Colin is safe._

_Oh, thank the gods._

Severus opened his eyes and said to Lenore, "It was _not_ your fault. I was stupid to get in the way."

After a moment's serious consideration, she bent closer and kissed his cheek. Carefully placing her tiny hand where she'd kissed him, she patted and pressed her fingers lightly into his rough beard, her concentration on the sharp prickles such she never noticed the dark bemused eyes following her every movement.

Severus cleared his throat. "And you are most welcome. It was my pleasure to rescue you... even if we did take too long."

_Oh, very well done, Severus!_

_Shut up._

"Really?" she asked.

Solemnly, he raised his hand in promise. "Really," Severus said softly. It seemed a natural progression for that hand to gently push the tangled hair away from her face. "You have pretty eyes."

"Thank-you-very-much. Mum says they're the colour of blue pansies. What's a pansy?"

"Hmmm. It's a flower; they don't grow here, though, it's too cold, but they do in other places and she's right, some of them are that colour." His eyes started to close. "I'm sorry," he said to her, his voice slurring, "I'm very tired. I need to go to sleep."

_Are you all right?_ Harry asked him.

_I will be. I just hurt._

_I know, I can feel it._

_Yes. Annoying isn't it?_

_If you're feeling pain, you're alive, and right now that's more than enough for me._

Severus briefly opened his eyes, gazing longingly at Harry. Lifting his hand, he ran it down Harry's cheek. Mindful of Lenore, Harry leant closer and cupped Severus' face with his hand as he very gently kissed him on the lips, lingering there perhaps a few seconds more than was necessary. He pulled back a bit and stared into his eyes, green to black.

Lids drooping shut, Severus sighed contentedly as he fell asleep.

Harry looked at him a few seconds more, memorising his face, and then turned back to Lenore.

She was staring first at Harry and then at Severus and back again, an oddly mature expression on her face. "You look at each other the way my dad and mum looked at each other... before he went away."

Harry was shocked. She'd lost _both_ parents?

"Well, um, I love him," he said simply, "and I'm very glad he's here. I would've been very sad had he gone away."

"My mum was sad. Now, I'm sad. When are they coming back?"

Harry said the first thing that came into his head. "Oh baby, they're not coming back. Someday, you'll have to go to them. I miss my mum and dad, too. I was very little when they went away. It's easier if you think about where they've gone. I've heard it's very nice there. And they won't be lonely."

"But I'm lonely."

"Well, you've Uncle George and Aunt Aggie," he hesitated a moment, "and you've me and Severus. How's that?"

"I like that," she said, giving him a big hug.

About this time, George's wife, Aggie, ran into the room.

"There you are!" she exclaimed. "We've been looking for you everywhere." Taking an unrepentant Lenore under the arms, she picked her up off of the bed. "I'm so sorry, Harry; she won't bother you again."

"No, please, Aggie, she hasn't been a bother and I think Severus rather likes her. I know I do." He winked at Lenore who giggled.

Aggie raised an eyebrow; when it came to small children, Severus' reputation preceded him.

Making certain he had her attention, Harry said quietly, "Everyone gets a second chance and everyone has a soft spot. I think she found his."

Aggie nodded. Putting the child down, she took Lenore by the hand, saying, "Let's let Uncle Harry rest now, all right? He's still not feeling well and needs to sleep. You can see him tomorrow if Uncle Seth says it's all right."

Lenore pulled away from Aggie and ran back to the bed. She quickly clambered to the top and, throwing her arms around his neck, gave him a big hug and planted a wet kiss on his cheek.

"G'night, Uncle Harry," she said as she slid off the bed.

"G'night, Lenore," he called, grinning when she waved at him before leaving with Aggie.

Sliding under the covers and snuggling close to Severus had never felt this good. He put his arm across the narrow waist, grateful Severus was there for him to do so.

His last thoughts before unconsciousness took him was he rather liked being called Uncle Harry.

The next morning, Seth looked in on them and saw a deeply sleeping Harry loosely holding an also-sleeping Severus, the small child stretched out peacefully between them, her hand raised to Severus' face. He smiled and made a mental note to tell Aggie she was safe here; he'd let her know when she could come pick the child up.

Closing the door on their slumber, he reckoned that healing came in many forms and these three looked well on their way.

Severus signed the parchment with a flourish. He handed the quill over to Harry while George and Aggie, standing nearby with Arthur Weasley and The Trio, beamed at them both. Ignoring the sour Director standing off to the side, Harry looked over at the little girl, now almost six, bouncing on her toes in excitement and, sticking his tongue out her as he winked, he turned back to the parchment and signed his name to it.

_Lenore Snape-Potter (Bloodline Villins) adopted daughter of Severus Snape-Potter and Harry James Snape-Potter. Custos Morum: George and Agatha Weasley,_ the parchment read. Harry frowned at the last bit; the humiliating clause resulting from their fight with the Director of the Board of Governors over the adoption still rankled. _Custos Morum_--moral custodians--his arse. He sighed and put aside the lingering anger; they'd won, Peabody had lost, and that was all that mattered.

"It's done," he said, looking at Severus' happy face. Strange thing, that. He'd seen Severus with just about every face there was, but this pure, quiet happiness was new, and all the more cherished for it.

All restraint gone, Lenore ran over to Severus and literally jumped into his arms, giving him a huge bear hug. Reaching over, she grabbed Harry's robes and pulled him over so she could hug them both. "You're my Daddies now, right?"

"Right," they said together and the assembled laughed.

"So if you're my Daddies, how come _he_ says I can't live with you?" she asked, her eyes darting to the man standing stiffly behind them.

"Now, Lenore," Harry said loudly, "you know what Mr Peabody said. You have to live with other children in a 'proper family'. And since we're all in the castle together, we can see each other as often as we like." He bent close to her ear and whispered, "You remember our secret, right? The _other_ door?" She nodded solemnly. "Good girl," he said with approval.

She scowled over Severus' shoulder, her intent eyes following the Director who, with a disdainful sniff, made his way to the door. "Good. He's going. He's a bad man," she said quietly, "I don't like him." She blew a raspberry as the door slammed shut behind him.

"Lenore..." Harry began, trying unsuccessfully to hide his laughter.

Redirecting her attention, Severus tickled her sides. As she giggled, he said with mock sternness, "Young lady, I believe you've something for us?"

Not fooled for a minute by him, she wriggled her way down to the floor and stood before them, her hands behind her back. With a look of fierce concentration, she began to recite:

_Deep into that darkness peering,  
Long I stood there wondering, fearing,  
Doubting, dreaming dreams  
No mortals ever dared to dream before;  
But the silence was unbroken,  
And the stillness gave no token,  
And the only word there spoken  
Was the whispered word, "Lenore!"  
This I whispered, and an echo  
Murmured back the word, "Lenore!"-  
Merely this, and nothing more._

All the remaining adults clapped vigorously when she curtsied at the end of her recitation, the lines a fragment of the poem her deceased father and mother, the teacher killed in the abduction, had used in her naming.

Now she had 'two' families. Severus and Harry as her adopted parents, a precedent Arthur Weasley had seen to personally as Minister, and her _Custos Morum_, George and Agatha Weasley with whom she would ostensibly live. Harry and Severus exchanged a smile with Arthur and George; no one but their two families need know that the door into her room from the Weasleys' side was a Wizarding space sham to satisfy those nosy enough to check. _Proper family_, indeed: Lenore would live with _them_.

It would be many years before Lenore knew what those words 'proper family' really meant and when she did, she would tell Severus and Harry (with some heated outrage at how they'd been regarded), that while Uncle George and Aunt Aggie were dear to her, Severus and Harry were her only 'proper family'.

In the meantime on this fine day, her adoption day, Severus happily swung her around in the air in a big circle, the dancing light in his eyes new, the joyous laughter at her squeals of delight a blessing as their daughter laughed with her new fathers.

Excerpt from "The Raven" by Edgar Allen Poe

TBC


	4. Draco Draconus

**Bring Me To Life : A Continuation**  
by I Got Tired of Waiting

**Part I : The Past to the Present**  
**Draco Draconus**

Harry lost his fond smile as he remembered what followed. Once Lenore entered their lives, Severus declared it was time others took up the quest for those who went missing; they had more than enough to worry about at Hogwarts. By mutual agreement, his and Harry's attentions divided between running the school, raising Lenore, teaching the ever-increasing classes, and finding a way to stop the abductions from afar.

Protecting home first, they incrementally extended the castle's wards to encompass the entire Forbidden Forest and Hogsmeade. As the war inexorably drew nearer to Hogwarts, their spirits flagged as the wards' constant maintenance drained both time and energy. They persisted only through sheer bloody-mindedness and the seemingly inexhaustible well of Harry's power.

The crisis came when the Yanks entered the fray. Following an inevitable path, the Muggle wars became global. Pushed beyond their limits, the first world-wide Enclave of Wizards gathered at Hogwarts, by far the most protected of all the communities. For two months, the leaders of the wizarding world and Goblin centres of commerce deliberated on how they were going to save their peoples.

Unsurprisingly, they decided they must somehow isolate themselves from the Muggles, the first step being to cease commingling with them. The days of Wizards living side by side with Muggles were officially over.

Plans were drawn and in the next five years, the exodus from farm and fen to town, suburb to castle was accomplished with minimal losses. Hogsmeade (and hundreds of communities like it) exploded in population, the conditions unbelievably crowded at first until more and more land and space came under the protection of the wards, allowing them some breathing room.

_Ah, those were the days. What a boring world we leave behind now,_ Severus thought as he accepted the polite applause at his last telling remark.

_Well, they were--something, I'm just glad they're over,_ Harry countered. _I certainly wouldn't be waxing rhapsodic about them. The foolhardy risks, the days of anxiety, the rancid smell of death, the fear so thick you could taste it--I hated it. I hated what it did to me, what I became... What it did to you, to us--_

_Enough! I was there, too!_ Severus interrupted with unexpected force. Intense and glaring, his eyes held Harry captive from across the room; Harry almost vibrated in response. _You're not the only one who would have given everything to make it stop! Who felt their own worthlessness watching helplessly while so many good people were lost... Arthur, Hagr--_

_I beg you, please. Don't start,_ Harry interrupted, so visibly upset Hermione turned to look at him, comprehension and sympathy in her eyes. _I can't bear it right now. You. Have. Never. Been. Worthless!_ The full force of his emotions coloured Harry's thoughts. _Don't start, Severus. We've worked through this. You are worth everything to me and that makes you the most important part of my universe. It's my one indulgence. They can have the rest of the world, as long as I have you!_

Severus stopped speaking, as if gathering his next thoughts. His eyes softened in admiration as he sent, _So magnificent. So passionate. I'm sorry. You're right; this is neither the time nor the place._

Harry felt his mental caress. _No, I'm sorry. I know better than to bring it up. And we were not helpless; we took the same risks they did, and maybe more. We were out there doing, not watching. We were never passive. We cared so much about all of them, we sometimes forgot to care for ourselves._

_Perhaps you're right, but they're gone, and... they left our hearts behind; we're still alive... it's not right, somehow._

_Maybe we were just lucky. Maybe it wasn't our time to go. Maybe it was Kismet, maybe it was fate. Maybe our hearts won't let us go. Maybe--_ He shrugged and shook his head. _--Who knows? I don't. But I do know this: I love you and I will keep you as long as I can have you._

_I still don't know how you do it, but once again I am humbled._

_Well, Sirius always did say to leave 'em guessing,_ Harry thought, trying to lighten the mood.

Severus chuckled. _Best thing the mangy mutt ever said._

But Severus sobered as he resumed his speech. "We overcame our limitations, we stretched ourselves beyond the confines of past ideas, shifting our paradigms as much as we shifted ourselves. But such triumph always comes with a cost, Our friends, our neighbours, and our families paid for our freedom in full coin." He faltered a moment, his head bowed and Harry felt the tears sting his own eyes as he recalled the many people they'd lost in the preceding years.

They needed something better than the traditional wards, something stronger. Working feverishly together for months, Severus and Draco designed and created the Dimensional Wards. Harry helped where he could. When asked, he provided the sheer power they sometimes needed to contain and shape the Wards. And of course, they didn't turn down the sustenance he and Lenore provided, sometimes forcibly, when concentration and brilliance overrode good sense.

Near the end of their effort, Severus and Harry travelled to France on school business while Ron and Hermione left for an Auror Enclave in the Dakotas. Alone in the dungeon workrooms, Draco had been gnawing at an impasse when a ransom Owl arrived; his grandchild had been abducted by the Muggles. Unable to locate anyone, Draco's fear for her overrode his native caution and, with rare impetuosity, he left Hogwarts alone to rescue her.

Finding his note when she came down several hours later with his supper, Lenore frantically called everyone home. They'd all desperately looked for him, the search spanning the globe for days.

Ron and Hermione _knew_ through their bond that Draco was in serious trouble. They kept Hermione sedated, her body racked with the torture he suffered. Although not much better, Ron nonetheless drew on his training and control to focus the pain into a fine-tuned divining rod that did much to narrow the search. After a violent argument with Harry and Ron, Severus and Sirius left the castle to find him.

The four remaining kept vigil over Hermione, the days stretching into forever, marked only by her constant, echoing cries. And then she stopped. Her eerie silence tore their hearts more than her screams, for in that instant they _knew_ her link with Draco had been severed.

Forever.

Ron fell unconscious, Seth wept, Lenore comforted him, and Harry waited.

He would never forget the horrible moment a week later when he'd met a hollow-eyed Severus and a wrathful Sirius bearing Draco and Sarah's bodies. Tortured by the Muggles for the magic he would not give them, he'd obviously perished long after her; Severus believed that Draco, knowing it was hopeless, had given her a graceful passage before the Muggles could use her against him.

To the point of their own exhaustion, Severus and Harry returned to Draco's broken body the dignity stripped from him before they let Ron and Hermione see him; there was only so much they could bear. While they said nothing, they _knew_.

Harry missed Draco calling him 'Daddy' with that self-mocking voice only Draco could summon, missed the happy, lusty joy his friends had shared. With shadowed eyes Ron and Hermione coped badly with their loss. Harry re-bound the two of them with the ancient bonds he and Severus shared, hoping it would help them recover, although Severus thought him foolish for trying. Surprisingly, it mitigated some of their emptiness and with the support of their family, they pulled through.

Severus, strong and surprisingly silent, continued the work on the Wards with Hermione's assistance. Night after sleepless night they worked, burying their sorrow in their labours. He and Ron were by their sides, gratefully giving them the energy and power, if not the expertise, needed to complete the wards and, with little fuss, they succeeded.

Dry-eyed, they'd returned to their quarters after calling another Enclave for the following week to distribute the wards and instruct in their placement. When private, Severus had finally broken, letting loose the pent-up grief with shaking sobs. Holding Severus tightly, he'd wondered if he grieved for Draco or Lucius?

_For both,_ Severus thought to him candidly, his mental voice choking, _I mourned them both._ Looking briefly at someone else in the audience, he continued, _Careful, Harry, you're broadcasting._

Through the silent tears wetting his own cheeks, he glanced over at Ron and Hermione. Their bleak expressions and the tears running unchecked down Hermione's face told him that Severus was right. Reaching over, he took Ron's hand and when he turned to look at him, Harry apologized with his eyes.

It seemed only fitting they posthumously name the new wards 'The Draconus Wards' after Draco. While he'd never seen them fully completed, they wouldn't have existed had it not been for the foundation he'd laid and the sacrifices he'd made.

The Enclave agreed.

The Draconus Wards shifted the wizarding world just one step out of phase of the same time and reality plane as the Muggles; once in place the Muggles would never be able to find them.

_It was bloody brilliant,_ Harry thought. _Only Draco could have dreamt it up; only you could have made it a reality._

_I'm not certain modesty becomes you--_ he cleared his throat, sipping on a glass of water _--do not sell your own contributions short, for in the end no one wizard but you could power them._

Once set, the magical power consumption of the Draconus Wards was immense and wizarding resources began slowly dwindling as wizard after wizard fell, their life-energy drained in the Ward's maintenance. What was once thought to be their salvation became their bane and many cursed them for ever creating them.

That is, until Neville ingenuously suggested binding the Draconus Wards to the Earth Stone each community had as the keystone of its power. The earth stones were what linked all the communities and allowed for the Floo and the Translocation Portals Network; Neville was involved in maintaining that Network. He hypothesized their vast energy could, theoretically, power the wards forever. However, there was a drawback--

It would take wizards of near-equal power to merge the two into one.

With Neville's innate knowledge of the Network and Severus' knowledge of the Draconus Wards, Harry used the magic of the earth itself and his own deep resources to provide the raw magic necessary to fuse the Wards to the Stones, starting at Hogwarts. After several aborted and unsuccessful attempts, he finally succeeded and once set, the Wards perpetuated themselves in union with the Stone, which barely felt the drain.

Which could not be said for Harry. He collapsed with what he'd thought would be his final effort; there was nothing left in him to give. During the few weeks of recovery from the near-fatal drain of his magic, Harry and Severus worked out a rigorous schedule to install the Wards in other communities. With a clearer understanding of the correct sequence of spells and the amount of magic required, they were ready to begin.

But they had a problem. Only a handful of wizards remained who were willing and strong enough to make the connections. As only Harry proved sufficient to go it alone, the others needed to work in spell-sharing pairs or triples to provide the necessary power. After weeks of intense training, the six teams including Harry with Sirius as his companion, began the massive effort to protect each and every community. Town after town, region by region they would arrive at dawn, and collapse exhausted at night. Harry returned to Hogwarts as often as he could, sometimes desperately needing the recharge only Severus could give him.

_There were times I was sorely tempted to bring you in by force. Even over the distance, I'd feel your dwindling resources until I myself was too far gone to do more than lay about like a Flobberworm. It was most inconvenient. I don't know what I would have done without Lenore._

_Well, your indisposition served a purpose. How else was the girl ever to get Seth's attention with you glowering and sulking all the time?_

_I did not! Well, erm, perhaps I glowered a bit, but that was more from irritation with the boy for not noticing how much she loved him. I wish I'd known what it was Albus did to make Sirius change his viewpoint; I'd have used it copiously on Seth._

Harry chuckled. _Ah, it seems you're fated to forever endure thick-headed Gryffindors._ When Severus snorted, he added smugly, _And, despite your desire then to kill me, you still loved me, although I do recall Sirius being on the receiving end of some blistering reprimands._

_Venting my frustrations on you would have been pointless. You would have given me that look and ignored me anyway. Sirius was convenient and I suspect he didn't overly mind; there's a certain comfort in continuity and the gods know I loved baiting him. I still miss the mangy mutt._

Harry sent a mental caress; Severus might jest about it, but he knew the sentiment was real; he missed Sirius, too.

They both remained mentally silent while Severus continued his speech to the crowd as if they weren't conversing inside. Harry was almost returned to his reverie when Severus interrupted his meandering thoughts. _I did learn something important, though, something Albus tried to answer for me before I voiced the question._

Surprised at the comment, Harry suppressed his curiosity, knowing Severus would get around to it in his own time. Limiting himself to an ironic, _That sounds like Albus,_ he couldn't stop a wicked chuckle.

Severus snorted. _Do you mind? Believe it or not, this is important--_

Harry instantly sobered. _I'm sorry. Please, do continue._

Brow raised Severus hesitated. _I--oh damn! Not now, though. I'll need..._

_What? Brandy?_

_Idiot. Time. I need time. It's not easy to talk about the changes I went through then._ He looked away. _Damn, I should have kept my thoughts to myself,_ he mentally muttered.

Harry didn't think he'd ever seen Severus so flustered and couldn't hide his amusement; he'd drag every sordid detail out of him later.

Severus was right, though; many things had changed then, but immersed as he had been in his daunting task with the wards, Harry remained largely unaware of them. He never knew till later how Severus struggled to run a school with an ever-increasing census, nor was he involved in the castle's rapid expansion as it groaned under the new weight of the student body. Severus never said and Lenore, ever his able assistant, also remained silent.

To this day Harry wasn't certain whether Severus' slow evolution from despair happened because their plans seemed to be working, or because he'd been too exhausted to sustain his bitter cynicism. However, one thing was very clear; the changes in Severus' personality crystallized the year he almost lost Harry.

_Must you?_ Severus groused. _I really could do without another re-enactment from your fertile memory. This is supposed to be a party._

Harry just smiled serenely at him from his hidden position in the audience before sticking his tongue out at him.

Severus rolled his eyes and continued his speech. Harry chuckled unrepentantly, knowing Severus always hated it whenever he exposed his softer side.

TBC


	5. Where Doth the Power Lie?

**Bring Me To Life : A Continuation**  
by I Got Tired of Waiting

**Part I : The Past to the Present**  
**Intermission Two : Where Doth the Power Lie?**

Sirius' head wavered in the fireplace of his office. "Severus, I don't know what happened. One minute we were placing the Wards, the next he collapsed. It's a bloody mess. The town elders are barely keeping it together and, Merlin knows, I don't have the wherewithal to hold it in place--" he stopped, flummoxed by Severus' closed-eye concentration; he'd expected thundering anger, but this weary silence was almost frightening.

When Severus still made no comment, Sirius doggedly continued, "Either you need to get Harry back here as soon as possible or else we need a whole squadron of Aurors here to keep things in balance. There's a Muggle Army bivouacked on the outskirts of town and another ready to engage it further down the road. We're desperate here, caught in the middle."

Severus opened his eyes, finally saying, "Sirius, I'll send our Aurors to escort Caballa and Abel, our most experienced Ward-Setters; they just came in a week ago. Caballa was ill, but if her grousing is any indication, I think she'll be ready to resume her duties tomorrow." He closed his eyes again, fingers massaging the bridge of his nose.

Taking a deep breath as if to steady himself, he added, "Until I can get down to the infirmary to see what Harry's condition is, I can make no assessment of what else can be done." He sighed deeply, his impatience to be off almost a physical thing. "So for right now, I would strongly suggest you prepare for the worst and hope for the best, my friend."

Exhaustion etching his face, Sirius replied, "All right, Severus. Please, just take care of Harry. He should never have come here; it's not on the schedule until next month, but... Well, you know how pig-headed he can be. He knew the grave situation here. How many lives..." He hesitated as if waiting for a rebuke that never came. "Right now he's more important than anything else, not only from a strategic perspective, but... Oh hell, Severus, we can't lose him. Just _go_ to him. He needs... He's been away for far too long."

Severus couldn't even draw up the energy to point out the obvious to Sirius and for once he left him merely with a mild admonishment to take good care of Caballa and Abel and better care of himself. With a tired nod and a surprised gawp, for he'd still expected the usual berating he took when Harry over-extended himself, Sirius disappeared from the flames wondering if Severus would heed his own advice.

Without turning, Severus called, "Lenore!"

Her age belied by a deceptively young face, Lenore stepped immediately through the open door to stand beside him. "Yes, Severus?"

"I assume you heard the conversation?"

"Of course, why else would you hire me?"

Severus chuckled wearily. "Then, I shouldn't have to tell you to--"

"--Already done, sir. I notified Seth to release them on the morrow."

Severus threw her a sharp grateful look. "_That's_ why I hired you," he said, his eyes dancing. "Now away with you, cheeky girl."

She lifted an eyebrow and grinned irreverently as she smartly left the room.

In her wake, Severus had the fleeting, irrelevant thought he always did, wondering when Seth was going to wake up and finally _see_ her. And as always, he made a mental note to do something about it, a note just as quickly forgot as he was swallowed for a few heartbeats by the panic he'd experienced when he'd _felt_ Harry's return by direct Portal to the infirmary.

Before Sirius had interrupted his flight to the infirmary, Seth had occupied the fireplace, reporting that, in his professional opinion, Harry was 'barely there'. Severus hadn't needed Seth to tell him this; the pain, now dampened, and the weakness he'd felt when Harry arrived still burned behind his eyes and coursed through his veins.

Freed for the moment from his duties and confident he'd done all he could, he tore from the rooms at a dead run, ignoring the paleness flooding his body.

Lenore quietly closed the door behind her father. She'd wait till after they'd had a chance to _be_ together.

Harry lay on one side of the double bed in the private room at the back of the infirmary, fighting the deep lethargy invading him as he faded in and out of consciousness. He was holding it together only as long as it took Severus to get here. He wanted to see Severus, needed to see him, to feel him. He felt so _thin_.

While Seth gently poked and prodded his unresisting body, he waited impatiently, suffering the renewed agony at each touch in silence. He ignored the muttered commentary Seth was giving to his assistant. He was so tired; each laboured breath sent fresh waves of pain coursing through his emaciated body. His bones ached, everything ached, and he made a Herculean effort to keep Severus from knowing the full extent of his debilitation.

He could 'see' Severus at the fireplace, no doubt talking to Sirius. _Dear Sirius, he tried, but I can be such a stubborn git. I hope Severus isn't giving him a hard time,_ he thought, remembering the last time Severus had given Sirius a harsh tongue-lashing for not taking better care of him. 'Thrice-Damned-Mangy-Mutt' had been the nicest thing he'd said.

Seth left the room, leaving the door open. He was finally alone.

The vision firm in his head, Harry could 'see' Severus talking to Lenore, saucy girl. Then he was running down the halls, his cloak flying open in his haste. Checking his run to a more sedate pace, he staggered at the doors to the infirmary and leant against the frame to gather his strength before...

Slowly, ever so slowly, the door to the infirmary opened, and _Oh, thank the gods, there he is._

Masterfully gliding down the length of the infirmary, cloak billowing behind him, heels clicking on the floor... all mutely demonstrated the strength of his stride as he rapidly approached the room Harry occupied. Harry sighed longingly at the welcome sight through the open door, sincerely wishing he had the energy to do something about the sweet tightening in his loins at this picture of Severus swooping down the hall, each step heralding an impatience Harry knew was only for him.

_So graceful, so magnificent, so stirring... so goddamn tired,_ he thought as reality failed him with the image of his Severus burned firmly in his memory.

Severus checked his head-long rush down the corridor at the door to the infirmary. Taking a deep breath to compose himself, he sternly controlled the inner weakness and muted pain he'd been experiencing with every step closer to Harry. He opened the door quietly and stepped into the large room, taking in his surroundings. All was quiet.

As he neared the room, he could _feel_ the longing coming from beyond the open door. He almost faltered when he saw the predatory, possessive gleam of Harry's restless green eyes.

Appreciating him. Wanting him.

He'd never felt more _real_ than in that moment, conscious of his stride, aware of the desire he could feel emanating from the admiring eyes of his lover. Drawing closer, he could _see_ the yearning tempered with regret. With the deep sigh of Harry's contentment whispering in his head, he saw those eyes close in gratitude, the body going limp.

All pretence of dignity gone, and fighting the threatening bond-sickness he could feel within himself, Severus staggered the last few yards to the bed. His legs buckled and he fell down to his knees at its side, the pain of the impact overshadowed by the waves of throbbing agony, finally felt in full as he took Harry's hand.

He studied Harry for a long moment noting the pale, lined face, the prematurely silver hair tangled and more unmanageable than ever. He ran his hands over the gaunt body, the bones protruding from skin so translucent he could almost see the blood flowing through the veins beneath. Dark circles ringed the closed eyes, lashes dark against his pallid skin stretched tightly over the fine bones. He looked desiccated, like all the life had been sucked out of him.

As a leader in the war against the Muggles, he was appalled at Harry's condition, knowing he would be of no use for quite a while, maybe months. This was quite a set-back. And he was mortified at his detached assessment of how long it would take him to get Harry back out there, for he knew he would do whatever it took to do so.

As his husband, he was sickened. An angry noise growled from his throat as he realised the deprivation and abuse his mate had taken in order to aid the half-wits who couldn't set nor maintain their own Wards.

_Damn it, Harry, how many times have I told you: you cannot save them all. Risking yourself like this is futile._

This wasn't the first time Harry had returned as little more than a dry shell, but this was by far the worst he'd ever been. Severus felt guilty he'd not paid better attention and knew he couldn't fault Harry if he doubted Severus' motives.

Hesitantly, uncertain of his right to do so, he stretched out his hand and gently, ever so gently, pushed the mop of hair off Harry's face, exposing the swollen and angry scar. That alone told him how serious it was and, with a muted cry, he buried his face atop the bed, suffering silently the searing shame of his abuse. Of its own accord, his hand rose and rested on Harry's chest and he took some small comfort in the steady rise and fall of his breathing, the calm beating of his heart.

Through much of the night he knelt beside the bed with numb knees, one hand entwined with Harry's while the other touched him, ran through his hair, caressed his face, searching for some sign, any sign that Harry would be all right and that _he_ was still loved... and forgiven.

At odd intervals, Seth would poke his head into the room and sigh in quiet exasperation every time he saw Severus still kneeling by the bed.

_Damn it man; just accept that he waited for you, that he wants to be with you, that he sees nothing to forgive. Stop punishing yourself. He's here. He always comes back; he loves you._

Seth understood Severus' need for forgiveness, though, and knew they'd both suffered from the separation. And each time he quietly withdrew, he hoped the next time would be better.

A few hours before dawn, Severus could take it no more. Rising in great pain, he hobbled over and closed the door to the private room. Slowly removing his outer garments and boots, each movement reflecting the distress still coursing through Harry, he climbed into the bed and took Harry gently into his arms, positioning the other man so he was in his favourite position as Severus' blanket.

With one arm around the familiar, yet thinner waist, he held Harry tight, revelling in the feel of his skin against his own. Tracing small circles on his back with the tips of his fingers, he relished the silky skin beneath them. _Ah, much better,_ he thought as the weariness seeped into every bone. Sighing dreamily, Harry burrowed even deeper into the embrace. Lulled by their hearts beating in tandem, Severus soon fell into a dreamless sleep.

Seth, came into the room a few minutes later and smiled with deep satisfaction, his clear grey eyes softening at the sight of the two of them holding each other. _Finally,_ he thought, his long-standing worry over his godfathers alleviated. _They both need this. Severus looks much better as well, not so 'stretched' as before._

Seth might know little about relationships; however, having had an abundance of it his whole life, he knew love when he saw it. When he was a child, his own parents had been discreet in their loving but open with their affections; he'd never felt not loved. And one thing he knew from his years with Severus and Harry was that they loved.

His only regretted he'd not found someone for himself yet, although recently Lenore had been much in his thoughts and heart. He'd had lovers, but they paled when compared to the examples set by his parents and these two. He was waiting for what he saw between Severus and Harry, what he'd seen in his own parents: a deep abiding love that celebrated life, took the good where found, yet withstood all hardship. He knew it existed, he just had to be patient.

He drew the blanket over them, much like a parent tucking his children into bed. _This will do them both a world of good,_ he thought.

As he was about to leave the room, Lenore stole up beside him, gazing fondly at her fathers.

Sighing with pleasure to see them together, she wondered how long it had taken Severus to fight his demons before forgiving himself enough to let him _be_ with Harry. While Severus looked more tranquil than she'd seen him in weeks, the remaining harshness lining his face told another story. _A long time then,_ she thought with clear insight, _and he still hasn't forgiven himself._

She let her eyes wander over the sleeping pair, quieting everything within her lest she wake them. Still too pale, Harry's peaceful face spoke of contentment; his inner strength and her comfort had always been in his silences more than his words, his serenity and easy laughter a soothing balm to her restless spirit. Severus looked so stern, even in sleep, yet that hard exterior had always sheltered her inside, keeping her safe and warm even in her darkest nights when the shadows of childhood stalked her dreams.

She hardly remembered her life before them. So much they'd given her as a child--security, comfort, and love--these things she'd had in abundance from these men, her heart-fathers. As a child she never questioned its source; as an adult she knew it had come as an outpouring of the very same things they gave to each other. Such a strong thing, the communion they shared. And just as a child's needs are different than a woman's, she yearned to find for herself the same joy they had for each other.

Lenore couldn't say when she'd fallen in love with Seth, but it felt like forever. He was so much older and she wondered if he would ever see her as more than the child of his parent's friends, a child whose small hurts he'd mended with quiet affection. And yet... Yet there was that _something_ about him recently she couldn't quite place, the way his eyes followed her, the stammering awkwardness he never exhibited with anyone else, the slight flush colouring his cheeks whenever she caught his eye which gave her hope that he might just think her more than an irritating child.

She leant over to give Severus and Harry a light kiss on the cheek before turning back to Seth. She smiled; perhaps Seth needed one as well.

There was something about her slender form that moved him and he wondered when he'd realised she was now a woman and not a little girl begging favours and succour from 'Uncle Seth'. Come to think of it, she hadn't called him that for years. As his eyes savoured all the details that proved to his awakening body that indeed she was no longer a child, she turned from the bed to face him. Caught as he was in his imagination, he flushed, storing away for further reflection the odd yet appealing expression she gave him.

When had she got so close? He could almost feel her body's warmth, could smell the sweet scent of her hair. His hands, such useless things, wanted to draw her to him as she closed the small gap between them. Her body lightly touching his, his breath hitched as she placed a hand on his upper arm, its warmth searing his skin through his robes. Reaching up, her fingertips gently grazed his cheek leaving tendrils of sensation behind them. So soft her lips as she kissed him tenderly on the mouth, their heat lingering as she pulled back enough to gaze steadily at him. And her eyes--the world resided in their depths.

Wordlessly she left him, a secret smile gracing the lips he could still feel against his own. Mesmerized, he whispered, "Lenore," as he watched the heavy chestnut plait swinging back and forth in time to her steps. Bemused, he closed the door to the room long after her departure and, warding it against the curious, went to bed himself a much happier man.

Harry woke abruptly, eyes wide open, his heart racing. Disoriented, he raised his head, reassured when his hand encountered the prickly rasp on his husband's face. Summoning some energy, he shifted till he was half on, half off Severus, their legs scissored. He burrowed his face into Severus' shoulder and nuzzled him a moment, placing a sloppy kiss on the soft spot where shoulder meets chest. Content, he drifted back to sleep.

An arm snaking under his neck beneath the pillow woke Severus. He muzzily noted the shifted weight, grateful he'd be able to walk on the morrow, for the other position usually meant shooting pains in his back if held too long. He felt Harry bury his head in his shoulder, the other arm thrown possessively around his waist, hand splayed along his side.

With the nuzzled kiss on his shoulder, he came fully awake, a frisson of desire working its way up his spine. Tightening his arms, he pulled Harry closer, suppressing the want, the need until a time he knew they could both enjoy it. The soft, steady snores wafting across his chest told him Harry had gone back to sleep.

As his thoughts meandered, his hands lazily stroked Harry's back and sides. Every now and again, Harry would loose one of those warm, moist sighs and snuggle deeper into the embrace. He'd always cherished most the quiet times like this, whether in front of the fire, or in the soft downiness of their four-poster bed, or more rarely, out in the grove under the stars.

As the night whiled away, his ruminations turned to more urgent, mundane things.

The Wards. More than a year's work remained to finish the list of towns and burrows still needing them.

_Too long,_ he thought. _Harry will never survive it. I won't survive it. There are so few left. Only two of the five original teams remain, plus Harry, with none to replace them. But it must be done. The longer we delay, the more we die._

With such morbid thoughts, he realised he could not abide Harry just fading into the Hinterlands. The mere thought sent shivers of dread through him, not because he feared death, but because the smallest hint of life without Harry was too terrible to contemplate. _Better to die with Harry than die alone,_ he thought shuddering.

He _must_ do something about it.

As the dawn crept through the window over the bed, bringing a new light of understanding, Severus formulated his plan, one which would satisfy everyone's requirements. It was _his_ turn to offer the support, the necessary energy Harry needed not just to survive, but to thrive.

_We need to be together._

Harry chose that moment of deep resolve to awaken. Tightening his arms and legs, he caressed Severus with a sleepy, _I'd like that. You always worry too much. I still love you. And although there's nothing to forgive, if it makes you feel better, apology accepted._ He tilted his head up in a silent bid for kisses, which Severus was only too glad to oblige. With a deep sigh of contentment, Harry broke the kiss, snuggled back into his shoulder, a small smile gracing his lips as he quickly dropped back into sleep.

Severus savoured the moment and with a happier frame of mind, continued to think through all the obstacles to his plan. Content when finished, confident it would work, he allowed himself the small indulgence of feeling just how profoundly he loved this man. Burying his free hand in Harry's hair, he fell into a deep, healing sleep.

TBC


	6. The Cause for Celebration

**Bring Me To Life : A Continuation**  
by I Got Tired of Waiting

**Part I : The Past to the Present**  
**_The_ Cause for Celebration**

Pausing in his speech, as if drawing his next thoughts together, Severus stared pointedly at Harry out in the audience. _My, we're a bit maudlin tonight, aren't we? Is this truly necessary? You're distracting me._

_The time we travelled together was one of our best ever. Indulge me._

_Don't I always? Why should tonight be any different than any other?_

And wasn't _that_ the truth? Secure in Severus' amusement, Harry let the memories flow, content to distract his husband if he wasn't distressing him.

Two months later, Harry had fully recovered. Over the Board of Governors vehement protests, Severus handed Hogwarts temporarily over to Colin Longbottom who'd been filling in for Harry while away. For the next sixteen months, he and Severus travelled together installing the remainder of the Wards. As Harry expended energy, Severus replenished it, and more, through their bond and, on rare occasions, using the rings.

Severus bullied, cajoled and, when necessary, berated town elders with his customary fire if he thought for one instant Harry was in danger. He always won his case, for there were few who could best Severus when he drew the mantle of his full power around him in righteous anger. Each day, Severus would watch him with narrowed eyes, senses straining to feel how Harry was doing.

Harry would, on occasion, encounter a particularly stubborn Stone and he would have to wrestle the Draconus Ward into place with sheer power. Or worse, they would find a town only half protected, the idiots in charge too weak, or too incompetent to maintain their own Wards. In these cases, they had to repair things before Harry could proceed with their work, his powers strained to the limit by the time he finished, even with Severus' help.

So despite everything Severus did to protect him, there were still nights when they'd stagger into the quarters assigned them and collapse in an exhausted stupor. Nights where Harry's last sight was Severus' regretful face leaning over him while he soothingly cradled him with the last of his own reserves, murmuring tender words of endearment while coaxing him to healing sleep.

Their bond strengthened, running far deeper than ever intended. They began to mind-speak as a matter of course and their lives were richer for it. They learned to double-speak and found a much-needed relief from their continuing frustrations as their wicked inner exchanges belied the polite conversations necessary to reach the very same idiots they served.

Severus laughed more in public while Harry grew quieter and more introspective. In private, Severus was the quiet one, Harry the one who buoyed him with infectious humour and joy. It was a good balance.

And somehow, whether through their bond or their shared stubbornness, they finished their task. They could return to Hogwarts knowing that every village, every town, every wizarding community around the world was protected.

Draco's legacy was finished.

They never received any accolades nor any gratitude, for they never asked for it. To them it was a necessity, an act of everyday survival, not one of celebration. Five teams and Harry had gone out at the beginning and only one team remained; it was hard to rejoice while remembering those who had died trying. _They_ were the real heroes.

Their part in history finished, Caballa and Abel's short reunion with Harry and Severus was solemn. With quiet pleasure, Severus bound the two Ward-Setters with silken cord; afterwards they retired quietly in Hogsmeade to raise their family in a safety they'd helped secure.

This was how they wanted it. And while the rest of the wizarding world jubilantly celebrated the end of the persecution, Harry and Severus quietly returned to _their_ Hogwarts, quietly renewed _their_ bond with the Earth Stone, and then quietly retired to _their_ quarters to make undisturbed, unhurried love in front of _their_ fire on _their_ ancient silk rug.

With little fanfare, they returned to their work at Hogwarts, seemingly as if the time away had not existed. They settled into their old routine; staid headmaster with a bit more humour and irrepressible, yet calmer, Professor by day, devoted lovers at night.

If the students and staff puzzled over the subtle changes, it soon receded in their memories till life went on much the same as always in their insulated world. But it _had_ changed. Their travelling time together had created an unbreakable dependence between them. Only they knew of their personal vulnerability created as energy best spent supporting each other was still squandered on the needs of others; the hypnotic mantra of everyday living at Hogwarts drained their relationship.

Once things settled a bit, Seth approached them, formally asking for Lenore's hand. Harry would never forget the stunned look on Severus' face followed by his head-shaking chuckles as he realised that, despite their blatant scheming for years, the two brats had done it on their own without _their_ intercession. And poor, serious Seth--he'd thought for one heart-stopping moment that Severus was laughing at _him_ and his request, but Harry rescued him, telling him that Severus' little 'aberrations' were a recent development and to ignore it.

He'd rather enjoyed the retribution exacted for that 'little' comment.

In a private ceremony with just their respective families, Severus and Harry joined Seth and Lenore. In one of his rare moments, Severus openly shared his joy in their union. Harry was just happy at the radiance on Lenore's face and the protective way Seth held her as he kissed her. He had a premonition, sadly proven correct, that they would not be too long together and in his quiet way, he urged them both to savour every moment.

_I'm curious. Is there any particular reason you feel compelled to go over all of this? Again? Tonight?_

Harry could sense there was more to the question than idle curiosity; bringing up Lenore always did that to Severus. _I don't know, it's just right, that's all. You know how impulsive I am._

Harry rolled his eyes at the snort of concurrence he received from Severus at that comment.

_I just realised tonight's the end of an era. Our era. What follows will be very different, perhaps even boring by comparison. We're not the same people we once were. It just feels right somehow to finally celebrate living. To finally acknowledge, without boasting, that we're all here because we refused to give up, we refused to lose. After all the conflict, all the deaths, I feel an overpowering need to find something good and pure out of it all. It's a good feeling I have now. I want to savour it, to taste it, to feel it._

Silence greeted his statement. _Severus?_ he called softly. Then it dawned on him what he'd just thought, what he'd implied. _Oh, Severus! I'm so sorry. I wasn't thinking. Are you all right?_

_My mind is as cynical as it ever was. Think of something 'good and pure' for me. Please,_ the last thought almost desperate.

Harry pondered this a moment. He paged through his memories and settled on an amalgam of the many nights they'd shared. He formed a mental picture of the two of them, Harry draped over Severus, their bodies entwined on one of their much-abused silk rugs in front of a dying fire after a particularly satisfying bout of loving. With the image firmly fixed, he summoned from deep within his wellspring, the profound feelings of love and peace he always felt in moments like this, when their joining had gone beyond physical pleasure. No hiding, no barriers, their hearts and souls bare to each other. Concentrating, he fused the two thoughts together and gently sent them to Severus.

Severus' voice cracked in his speech as he received the unexpected gift. He stopped and levitated a glass of water to the place where he was speaking. Drinking, he asked, _Is that...? How you feel...? Have I told you how much I love you?_

Harry nodded, sending him a fleeting mental touch.

Severus resumed his speech, "As I look back on all we've survived, at how we've changed, I sometimes have to remind myself that almost _every_ student in this school was born _after_ our work was finished. Their relatively carefree world was defined by us, paid by us, moulded by us. Now it's _our_ time to be care-free, to lose the melancholy, lose the sorrow, lose the _fear_. It's _our_ time to celebrate, to live in the present," he faltered at his next words, a ripple of sorrow passing through him, "Not in the past. Forward. We must go forward, for we cannot _ever_ go back."

Harry knew he was speaking more to him than the audience. _All right! I get it. I'll try to think of something more pleasant._

Quidditch was always good. In his prime, before all the craziness, he'd dropped the Potions class in favour of taking over from Madam Hooch at her retirement. George Weasley, by then a full professor himself, was only too happy to oblige.

He'd early on given up any dreams of playing Quidditch professionally, for the spell (at the time) wouldn't let them separate for the long periods of time he would have needed. In this manner, he completely satisfied his love of flying and his love of the game by teaching it to others.

But he retired his broom when a near-fatal accident had sent him (and Severus by way of their bond) into the infirmary for almost two months while his 69 year-old, shattered body healed. And while he got back the full use of his limbs, the incident jolted him into acknowledging he could no longer endanger Severus for his own pleasure. So, his custom broom was hung in a place of honour with all the Quidditch cups and Harry resigned himself to the ground.

_Is this your idea of something 'more pleasant'?_ Severus asked wryly. _Because, if it is..._

_Sorry..._ Harry hesitated. _I'm thinking it can't all be good or all bad. It's more of a progression, a cycle of things. They're so intertwined, I can't think of one without the other._

_Fifty points for Gryffindor. It only took you... What? A century to figure it out? Why do you think I'm in such a bad mood most of the time?_ Severus sent with a wicked laugh.

_I don't know. Not enough sex?_ Feeling the mental blow Severus sent him, he chuckled, _Ten points from Slytherin for lack of control._

_I've never heard you complain about my control,_ he retorted and went back to his speech.

_Always has to have the last word,_ Harry thought to himself, knowing that unless they were physically together (so he could stop that wicked mouth with his own) he never would get it. Not that he minded... too much.

He heard Severus drawing another deep laugh from the crowd with another one of his amusing anecdotes. They'd enough of them--a lifetime's worth. _They'd listen to him until the flesh rotted off their bones,_ he thought, laughing appreciatively with the others. Savouring the silky voice as it continued, he returned to his own memories.

Shortly after Seth and Lenore's marriage, Harry decided to retire. He retained his position as Head of House for Gryffindor, for he couldn't bear to part from them. However, to his mind, eighty-one years as Deputy Headmaster, and eighty-five years teaching everything from Potions to Defence Against the Dark Arts was more than enough for a tired man who bore more grey hair than his older husband. While he publicly claimed the classes required someone with more dexterity and energy than he could summon, the reality was he was heart-sore and for a while lost his will to do more than just sit around the school and get under Severus' feet.

_I didn't mind--too much. You were just burned-out. And I got Lenore back as my assistant. I knew she'd take pity on me when you retired. Colin was a good Deputy Headmaster, but he's so... Well, I needed someone a bit more subtle. Like you, Lenore knew what I wanted--before I formed the thoughts._

Remus Lupin resumed teaching Defence Against the Dark Arts. It was comforting to have Remus around; as a werewolf, he would live for a very, very long time. When Sirius unexpectedly died helping a wizarding family escape a Muggle war-zone, Remus had been devastated to lose his best friend and confidant. Thinking of all the friends they'd already lost over the years, and how many more Remus would live to see pass on, Harry realised anew why Arabella's 'sacrifice' (as many saw it) a few decades back was so necessary. By 'taking the bite' and sharing the potion with Remus each full moon, they were at least assured their heart's desires through the centuries they could hope to have together.

Potions had been taken over by Colin Longbottom, the grandson of Neville and Ginny Longbottom, who'd inherited Neville's sweet temper and reserve with Ginny's fiery hair and greater power. _Guess the Weasley genes tell after all,_ he thought craning his neck to look back at them in the audience. Ginny gave him a broad smile; Neville was transfixed by Severus' speech and didn't notice the exchange. Glancing sideways at Neville with long-standing patience, Ginny gave Harry a saucy wink before pointedly returning her attention back to the front of the room.

Harry turned around and smiled. In addition to teaching, Colin and his many assistants made all the potions required by the school, although Harry and Severus (until a few months ago) still made the Wolfsbane Potion themselves; they'd just finished teaching Colin the ancient formula and complicated spells along with the modifications they'd made over the years. The Lupins had been willing test subjects as well as staunch friends. Each new batch had further mitigated their symptoms until now, the full moon was nothing more than an tiring inconvenience. They could live with that.

Harry noticed Colin standing off to the side with his wife, Dana, by his side.

_Severus? Did you see Colin's 'startled' look yesterday when he first heard Dana? Ah, poor Colin, take your rest now, you'll need it in the coming months!_ he thought with a wicked chuckle.

_Startled?_ Severus chuffed. _More like controlled panic. Can't wait to hear what the castle does with them; it's grown just a tad too accustomed to our more... eccentric habits,_ Severus thought at him with an ironic laugh. _He's so reserved, although she's all right; it'll be quite a--stretch--for them to fill our collective shoes._

_Eccentric?_ Harry smiled. _You're ever the master of understatement. That was quite a little fight yesterday._

_Nothing like a little stubbornness to get the blood moving..._ At Harry's sardonic stare, he amended, _Well, almost nothing._

_You going to let him off the hook tonight?_

_Hardly. I'd rather deal with his consternation than your irritation if we're delayed even one day. You always were an impatient whelp._ His mental chuckle rang through Harry's head.

_I'll remind you of that, the next time we..._ he threw over to Severus a rather graphic image of what he had in mind.

_Oh! Is that a promise or a threat? I'll take either._

_Um, Severus, your guests are staring at you. I think you're supposed to be speaking, not staring off into space. Did I hit a--nerve--or something?_

Resuming his speech, Severus glared at Harry and with a raised brow, thought, _Inarticulate Prat._ With that the connection broke.

Never one to take the spotlight, Harry gazed at his husband from the sidelines as was his preference. Like any lover, he saw only the man with whom he'd fallen in love, at his prime and unshadowed with time. Though rarely felt, the whispers of old age spoke most in the early morning and late evening hours when creaking bones didn't move so fast and loving became more deliberate caresses and subtle movements than the fast and hot quickening of their youth. With smouldering touches born of an intimate knowledge of their pleasure and with surprising health for their ages, they continued to please each other in a thoughtful fashion.

Unless they quarrelled.

They fought, though not often, great rousing rows that sometimes resounded throughout the castle as the magic they unwittingly released in their anger coursed through the very stones. During those times, feeling the trembles under their feet, the staff would smile knowingly and wait for a good long while after the tremors ceased before they even thought about approaching either one of them.

Usually their arguments started when one or the other was being stubborn about letting the other one know what was on their mind. Severus shutting him out of their mental contact made Harry's blood boil; Harry hiding something from him in the recesses of his mind made Severus want to spit. The quarrels never lasted very long and afterwards... Harry smiled. _Well, afterwards is always the best part._ The depth and enthusiasm of their 'making-up' was directly related to how violent the row had been in the first place.

He felt Severus' smile, wicked man.

If Harry found anything lacking in their relationship, it was the dichotomy they'd endured to fulfil societal propriety. The insults and acerbic wit they habitually traded, almost by reflex, were the mantle under which they hid their devotion when out in the harsh public glare. In private, when emotions overwhelmed them, that levity siphoned off the uncomfortable need to examine just how deep those feelings ran. Significant glances and the unspoken words and touches exchanged in their heads became the safety valve on which they depended to keep their privacy from grotty, prying eyes.

_Some things never change with time,_ he thought, bitterly.

_You ask too much of them, love._

_After all the good we've done, is it too much to ask for them to finally accept our relationship?_

_Obviously, it is._

_So we'll never be free of the shackles they've imposed on us from the very beginning?_

_Not so long as we live in the world they've devised._

_Good thing we're leaving it, then, isn't it._

_Indeed._

TBC


	7. So Sweet

**Bring Me To Life : A Continuation**  
by I Got Tired of Waiting

**Part I : The Past to the Present**  
**Intermission Three : So Sweet...**

Albus had warned them they might have some 'problems' with public opinion. While the laws might allow them to marry, it didn't mean wizarding society 'approved' of their _relationship_. From the time of their first farcical press conference shortly after Albus' death they received all manner of public censure from tasteless jokes to nasty letters, mostly against Severus for defiling the public's 'darling'. Intensely private, they tended to avoid situations giving rise to such condemnation but privately thought the jokes mostly harmless and rather amusing.

However, when it became clear they intended to stay together by choice, the public's reaction against them both was mixed, but rarely positive. Despite their almost paranoid circumspection and discretion, the jokes and Howlers soon escalated into physical harassment. Usually petty, a push into a wall or a mysterious stumble in Diagon Alley, they bore the indignities in affronted silence. On occasion the pranks turned into ugly violence and, in retrospect, Harry thought these incidents, while rare, solidified much of Severus' fierce protectiveness towards him in later years.

Things settled over time, although they continued receiving the Howlers, often getting two or three a week, usually at breakfast. Conversation would gradually cease around the Great Hall whenever a Postal Owl arrived carrying the familiar red envelope. After it was dropped to the head table, either he or Severus would serenely walk it to the staff room beyond where the message could be opened safely away from the ears of the Staff and students.

Then someone invented the Self-Opening-Howler. Severus vowed that if he ever found out who it was... Well, even Flitwick had been impressed when Harry mentioned them to him.

When the first one arrived, Harry had no more picked it up when it exploded and proceeded to howl its message for the entire Hall to hear. Luckily, it was quite tame (although it singed his fingers) but the incident shook them both. When the next one arrived, Severus tried levitating it, thinking Harry's touch had set it off, but the same thing happened to him and, once again, they were subjected to the Howler's reastier message. Soon all Howlers arrived in this form with ever-increasing frequency; they could find nothing to keep them from exploding their messages immediately at delivery.

While Severus hid his deep hurt and frustration from everyone but Harry, they shared a common outrage that the students were subjected to these anonymous abominations as well. After a particularly humiliating one involving comments on their sex life, which the two of them privately concluded was anatomically impossible, Harry decided enough was enough; he _would_ stop them.

Waiting until Severus taught his advanced levels, Harry called off his classes and went to Severus' office where he had a little chat with the castle. It took a while for him to get his meaning across, but once it understood, the castle was their willing accomplice.

From that day forward, all Howlers, regardless of the intended recipients, were sent to their quarters and while this may have made it uncomfortable for anyone else who had to wait for their distribution, it did effectively keep them private. Harry personally thought the whole thing rather boring, but knew each one cut Severus like a knife. Fiercely protective of him, Harry took it one step further.

Enlisting the willing assistance of Professor Flitwick, they created a type of Reflecting Charm. Unbeknownst to Severus, Harry wove the charm into the fabric of the castle's wards. Tired, but quite pleased with himself, he waited. Several Howler-free weeks later, the rumours flew about certain highly placed Ministry Officials receiving Self-Opening-Howlers from themselves containing 'highly-inappropriate-sexually-suggestive-material'.

It was almost inevitable that Arthur Weasley, then Minister of Magic, dropped by to see them.

Alerted by the castle of his arrival, Harry met him halfway to the Apparation point and walked him back to Hogwarts, catching up on family matters on the way to Severus' office. The closest person he had to a father, Harry enjoyed Arthur's company and respected him greatly. Quiet and unassuming, Arthur was a powerful wizard in his own right; his humility and high humour tempered and strengthened his magic much the same way Dumbledore's had. Both Severus and Harry had been hugely satisfied when he'd taken over the Ministry after Fudge.

Arthur had his own reasons for his visit, which became apparent after he'd settled comfortably on the sofa next to Harry. Severus occupied the other comfortable chair by the fire. They purposefully sat apart; it made things easier that way.

"I see the two of you have had great fun denuding my cabinet of some of its more prominent members," Arthur began after they'd exchanged the usual niceties.

Severus looked confused, his tea forgot. "We'd heard rumours, of course, that some of the Cabinet had been removed for sexual impropriety, which we found highly ironic, but I fail to see how we had anything to do with it."

Harry looked uncomfortable, _Oh-oh,_ he thought, _I think I'm in for it now._

Arthur gave him a sharp stare. "Now, Severus, please don't be coy. It's obvious the two of you are involved; the impropriety you so glibly speak of was the return receipt of Howlers they'd sent to the two of you. It went beyond poor taste and I'd no choice but to remove or demote them for moral turpitude. Not that I minded the excuse... In fact," he added, a suppressed smile on his lips, "it wasn't just limited to my Cabinet; several others in the Aurors and other departments had to be disciplined as well. I've also heard there were some prominent citizens less than pleased with the results."

Severus looked troubled for a moment, his eyes sliding to and resting on Harry. Seeing his uncomfortable squirming, Severus' head followed and Harry was treated to the rare piercing regard of an irate headmaster. "Potter, what have you been up to?" he finally asked in the quiet silky voice Harry knew was Severus at his most intense. Normally, he enjoyed that tone of voice, but now? He suddenly recalled why Severus had few discipline problems amongst the students.

Arthur turned to look at him as well, the suppressed smile finally teasing his mouth until he had a full-fledged grin on his face. "Yes, Harry. _Do_ tell us what you've been up to."

Even knowing Arthur wasn't upset, Severus had no intention of letting Harry off the hook. That Harry had done something, without telling him, made him... Well, it was a good thing they weren't sitting next to each other.

"Um, well, it's like this," Harry stammered. Severus glared at him and he fell silent.

"Oh, please, Mr Potter. Please tell me what it is you've done to annoy me this week," Severus said at his most sarcastic. "I've missed your youthful peccadillos _so_ much and eagerly await the latest in your long line of thoughtless actions."

Arthur looked at him sharply.

"It wasn't thoughtless," Harry began. "In fact, it took Flitwick and I two days to figure it out."

"Me," Severus automatically corrected, "Flitwick and me. And what was Filius doing in all this?"

"We made a Reflecting Charm to send the Howlers back to their senders. The sending part was easy, but bypassing their Anonymity Charm took a while. Professor Flitwick was brilliant," he said with a measure of pride.

"I see. And how did you use this charm?" Severus asked, his eyes narrowed.

Now, they were at the tricky part. Theoretically, Harry was charged with keeping the castle, but Severus was in charge of the wards. While Harry always executed the changes Severus wanted to make to the wards, he wasn't really supposed to work on them on his own; only the headmaster was supposed to make changes, but that didn't mean he wasn't perfectly capable of working them himself, it just meant Severus expected them to do it together.

So he shifted under the steady gaze and mumbled, "I set it into the wards."

Startled, Arthur cried, "What?!"

"I believe he said he wove it into the wards. Exactly how did you do that?" Severus was quite calm. Harry knew _that_ calm, just as he _knew_ they were going to have a flaming row about it when they got private.

Harry shrugged. "I just did. I told the castle what I wanted to do and then I did it. And yes, before you ask, I set the proper protections here in this room while you were teaching Potions that morning. Flitwick had no idea what I was about; he thought I was using the charm when the Howlers came in."

Arthur leaned over and asked him, "Why didn't you? Why set it into the wards of the castle?"

Harry quickly glanced at Severus, who was sitting very still, lost in his own thoughts. Turning back to Arthur he explained, "It only worked half the time. There were... reasons it had to work every time." He stopped there and thought about saying more, but sliding his eyes to Severus, he decided to go no further.

Arthur sat back, his face thoughtful. "Do you think it could be set into any ward or just the ones here at Hogwarts?"

Harry considered this a moment. "I don't know; I'm only familiar with the ones we have here. I may have knowledge of several different forms, but I'm not experienced working with them. Severus could give you a better idea about that than I."

Severus looked tired. "I would have to examine how it was set, Arthur, but I think any charm can be woven into certain types of wards. Why do you ask?"

It was Arthur's turn to squirm. "You're not the only ones receiving them. I find them a distasteful invasion of privacy, especially when the sender can choose when and where they arrive. When I'd learned you were sending them back to their recipients, I'd hoped we could do the same at the Ministry and elsewhere. If we could make the knowledge common, they would lose their effectiveness and their use might stop."

Harry had a flash of insight. The Trio. They were getting them as well as their father, and probably the rest of their families as well. Before Severus could speak, Harry jumped in, "I'll be more than happy to give you the charm and explain how I set it. You can use it as you see fit."

And that was the end of Severus' objections. Resigned, he told Arthur he would Owl him with the information on the morrow. Sensing the tension between the two, Arthur wisely called it a night and bid them _adieu_, saying he could find his own way out.

Severus sat in his chair a few very long moments, his eyes closed, a look of long-suffering weariness on his face. Harry watched him silently, but with no apprehension. He knew he'd done the best he could and Severus would just have to deal with it.

Severus rose from the chair and sighed, saying to Harry in a low calm voice, "Come, let's get it over with, but not here." He strode out of the room, Harry only a few steps behind him.

The walk to their quarters was made in silence and once the door was closed, Severus turned to Harry, his eyes blazing. "I find it singularly perverse that you chose this moment to turn defiant. What in the hell were you thinking of? No, let me rephrase that. What in the hell were you _not_ thinking of?!"

Harry balled his hands into fists to keep his temper in check. "It was _not_ thoughtless. Pay attention! I thought we'd already established this. I couldn't stand by helpless another day watching you get those goddamn things, watching you tear yourself apart over them. I decided to _do_ something about them. And if you have a problem with that, I suggest you take it elsewhere, because I'd do it again and again and again if I had to."

"Even if it means destroying the castle and everyone in it?" Severus asked with deadly quiet.

"_Yes!_ Even if it brought the whole goddamn castle down around our ears."

"Then I would call that thoughtless disregard. A child's reaction. I Don't Sleep With Children," he stated implacably.

Harry was now truly pissed off. How could he explain this, make Severus _see_? "The castle _helped_ me, for gods' sakes. It _showed_ me what to do. It can't hurt itself and it can't hurt us! Only those damned Howlers hurt us. Hurt you. I couldn't do nothing! I couldn't find the senders, couldn't make them _pay_ for the damage they caused you. So I stopped them the only way I knew how. It had to be _done_! And if that's childish, then... then you're too damned grown up." He stopped, panting, his eyes perilous.

Severus regarded him with hooded eyes for a moment, admiring the passion, the resolve and, once again, thought just how dangerous Harry was when provoked. He allowed himself one small moment of wounded pride... until he felt the tightness...

Quicker than thought, he closed the distance between them. Wrapping his arms around Harry, he crushed him in a tight embrace, his mouth stopping any more words Harry might utter. Overwhelmed, Harry responded in a manner that soon had both men groaning.

Severus pulled back, breathing heavily and looked Harry in the eyes, smouldering black to blazing green.

"Idiot! I understand _why_ you did it," he whispered intensely into Harry's ear while nipping the soft flesh of his neck beneath it. "And I _am_ grateful for the results."

_Nip..._

"But if you ever,"

_Bite..._

"_Ever_ do that again,"

_Suck..._

"Work the wards without back-up,"

_Lick..._

"Without _me_,"

_Tasting..._

"Castle or no castle,"

_Worrying the lobe with his teeth..._

"I will nail your entrails to the wall,"

_Bite..._

"And then, let one of Hagrid's more interesting pets finish you off."

He bit his neck hard, running his hands down Harry's hips. Cupping his buttocks, he pulled him close into his own hardness. "Am I clear?"

Harry pulled his neck away from Severus' tender ministrations and bit his bottom lip. Severus groaned but didn't back down; pulling Harry even closer, the concern for Harry was clear in his eyes. "Do we have an understanding?"

"Yesss," Harry said, taking Severus' mouth, plunging his tongue into the sweet depths, tasting his surrender. Severus shuddered and groaned his satisfaction into Harry's mouth, his grinding hips sending ripples of pleasure through them both.

_Well, that was a little intense,_ Harry thought as he and Severus tumbled to the floor.

_Short, but sweet. Oh gods, the making-up is so sweet._

TBC


	8. Closets, Minds, and Other Things Out Of

**Bring Me To Life : A Continuation**  
by I Got Tired of Waiting

**Part I : The Past to the Present**  
**Closets, Minds, and Other Things Out Of Which One Comes**

Harry's research into light-forms and music over the previous twenty years, while interesting in its own right, had only been done to mark the time until Severus was ready and willing to give up his position. And while _he'd_ been ready to move on many years ago, he never forced the issue, knowing Severus had not yet finished his plans for expanding the school and securing their successors.

So he waited, his obscure efforts aimed solely at sustaining Severus and growing his own plans for their final years together without all the draining distractions of their current life. Despite Severus' claims about his impatience, Harry was actually quite good at waiting. It was all relative; Severus had waited over a century, Harry just barely managed the twenty years.

_Careful, Severus. You're paying more attention to me than your speech. That's the third time you've stopped and graced the thin air with your keen, penetrating wit and talent._

_And who says I'm thinking of you, you conceited, limelight-seeking brat?_ At Harry's appreciative chuckle, he added, _Ah, the advantages of old age. I'm beginning to understand why Albus decided to live so long. Certain... peculiarities... are hidden quite well in the speculations of senility. I'm just softening them up. By the time I get done with this, they'll be happy to hear my announcement._

_Our announcement. And since when did you start using so many Muggle expressions? You used to hate them. In fact, I seem to recall your infamous diatribe: 'How Ever Did the Muggles Rise from the Mud?'_

_Well, erm, I sometimes find their loquacity... Oh never mind,_ and returning to the last part of his speech, Severus wrapped it up.

It was over. The conflicts, the suffering, the wild excitement, the dullness of routine, the swinging cycles of good and bad, black and white. Ended were the times when all their efforts were directed for the good and benefit of others. Severus' plans were now complete and no longer needed his guiding hand to keep them moving and growing.

_Now it's our time,_ he thought with unexpected pleasure and customary impatience. _Our quiet island, the library we've been building all these years, my research, and Severus' plans for explorations. Ah, I can't wait!_

Now seated with the rest of the staff while listening to a short speech from one of his many well-wishers, Severus glanced over at Harry, secret amusement shining in his eyes as he caught the gist of Harry's thoughts. _Patience, my love, has always been my virtue, not yours._

Harry raised an eyebrow at that, looking incredulously at his lover. _Oh? And who is the impetuous one? Not me!_ he shot back.

_Hmm--I seem to recall a certain person playing with their wand while reading a spell. Seems to me that's what got us into this mess in the first place._ His eyes danced.

_I think we've clearly established that that was thoughtlessness, not impetuosity. You're the one who went along with it and escalated it. And I might add, recently shot several bottles of Champagne all over our guests...?_

_Touché! Do you think we need to teach them the cleaning spell?_ Severus chortled, highly amused.

_Quiet, you insolent... Potions master!_

_Imbecilic student!_

_Sniping Snape!_

_Potty Potter!_ Severus sent with a chuckle.

_Mine..._ sent gently with a sweet mental caress.

_Mine..._ a tender whisper imparted with a tender touch.

Harry would have responded, but his more personal thoughts were cut short as hundreds of shouting voices joined to wish Severus a Happy One-hundred and Tenth Anniversary as headmaster of Hogwarts. As Harry added his discreet applause to the raucous merriment, the quiet part of him commemorated with bittersweet memories a very different occasion, for today also marked the day of Albus Dumbledore's death.

_I know. I miss him, too._ Severus held out his hand to Harry. _Come. Join me up here; this day is as much yours as mine._

With a noiseless sigh, Harry stood and walked away from his obscurity, hating the knowing looks he received from some in the audience. As he reluctantly joined Severus on the dais, he sought the comfort of his friends' encouraging faces before turning to regard his husband. _Satisfied?_ he asked with wry amusement, his eyes fixed on Severus' face.

_Barely. If I have to suffer, so do you,_ Severus replied, giving him a half-smile.

"They're at it again," Ron murmured into Hermione's ear, his beard tickling her.

"So I see. Still, it's good to see them together. They're still so reserved in public," she whispered back, liking the way his whiskers caressed her cheek.

"Do they have much choice?" His face softened. "I wish Draco were here to see this," Ron whispered, "he would have known how to distract the nay-sayers."

She chuckled, "Of that, I have no doubt. But Harry will think of something. I hear he has something special planned for tonight."

As if her words were his cue, Harry moved his arms gracefully over his head, the fingers fully extended, facing his unruly silver hair. His lips moved in the whispered cadence of a long complicated spell. The crowd grew quiet, eyes fixed on him. He rotated his wrists so his palms faced the audience; without breaking the rhythm of his spell, he brought his hands down slowly, palms facing the floor until they reached waist-level. Abruptly closing them into fists, he twisted his wrists and arms to face upward and, flinging his fingers wide open, released the spell, _"Lumos Severus"._

The audience gasped as every light in the Great Hall extinguished as if snuffed, the lingering scent of hot wax and smoke the only things sensed in the darkened chamber. Drooping slightly from the enormous effort of casting the difficult spell, Harry took Severus' hand, entwining their fingers.

_I hope you like this,_ he thought as streams of light began to flicker at odd intervals. In ever increasing numbers, they swirled in coloured arcs, dancing across the room in time to a simple tune, which soon became a haunting melody making their hearts soar. Pulsing, weaving, joining, separating, the streamers came more frequently until the smiling faces of the room's occupants were lit by the glowing strands of flickering light. Smiles of child-like pleasure, for the magic of light was the first to be learned and the hardest to master.

Harry was such a master and could make the light dance to any tune he desired. And he desired Severus. He had painted this portrait of his lover, the complex weavings of light and sound reflecting the complex nature of the man to whom he was bound. The sensual, yet sometimes violent joinings and separations of colour, light, and harmony were a delightful recreation of their moments of passion. Each pattern, each dance, composed a symphony to the joys of living with Severus. The whole was one of exquisite beauty. The spinning strands and breath-taking notes crescendoed in an explosion of light, light so white and pure it took their breath away, pulsing ever brighter until, as one, they were forced to close their eyes, the afterimage burned into their eyelids, the music in their souls. And then, once again there was darkness and the song ended as a dim echo, leaving them aching for its loss.

In rapid succession, the floating candles lit till the room resumed its former brightness. Their separate hearts still beating as one in time with the symphony's fading pulse, the crowd stood in silent wonder for a few heartbeats before exploding into wild applause for such a masterful performance.

Without thought, Severus tightened his hold on Harry's hand. Speechless for once, his eyes brimmed with the emotion he'd _never_ shown for Harry in public before. But Severus wasn't aware of the people surrounding them; he saw only Harry. He'd _felt_ the love, the passion his husband had poured into the work and, responding with a fervour all his own, he harshly buried his hand in Harry's hair, pulled him close, and let his lips speak into Harry's the words he couldn't find to tell him how much the gift had meant to him. How much _Harry_ meant to him.

The crowd silenced, stunned as Severus finally, after more than a century, publicly declared his deep, abiding devotion and commitment to Harry, his husband.

After an instant of forever, Severus ended the kiss and the embrace. Staring into Harry's eyes, their hands entwined, he murmured, "So beautiful." Volumes spoken, Harry gazed back, green eyes to black. He looked down and said nothing.

Releasing Harry, but not his hand, the daunting silence slowly touched Severus' awareness. He sighed. _Well... That was one of my more brilliant moves. Seems we made a quite a spectacle,_ he thought ruefully. _Are you all right?_

Chuckling quietly, Harry squeezed his hand. _Oh, yes. Quite fine. Better than fine. Spectacular comes to mind,_ he replied, his lips still burning from the kiss. _Well, at least we gave them something real to talk about this time._ Harry's internal chuckle reached him the same time as his thought.

_Think we'll get some tasteful jokes out of this one?_

_Not a chance!_

They both smiled.

"Now that we have your undivided attention... I have an announcement to make." Severus' eyes swept the uneasy crowd. With a dramatic sweep of his arm, he declared, "I am retiring as Headmaster of Hogwarts."

He patiently allowed the low buzz of comments to rise to a steady murmur. Still gripping Harry's hand, he raised his free hand for silence. Getting it, he continued, "As this anniversary indicates, I've been here for far too many years. Now that our world is fairly secure, it's time for me to step down. My portrait's painted and I'm ready to hang it on the wall of some obscure back hallway we've not yet opened." He grew solemn and all of his hundred and forty-nine years showed in his face. "I grow tired. I... _We_ have earned the rest." His hand squeezed Harry's almost painfully.

"However, we leave the school in capable hands. The Board of Governors has approved our choice of replacement. Colin Longbottom is the new Headmaster of Hogwarts." He waited for the cries of surprise to die. "As you know, Colin has been the Deputy Headmaster and Potions master at Hogwarts for the last twenty years and the Head of Slytherin House for the past ten. The Wards have been transferred to his control. Colin will make an excellent headmaster and we wish him all the best in the coming years."

Amidst enthusiastic applause, Colin soon found himself the centre of a large group of well-wishers. Severus snorted at the display.

_Behave yourself,_ Harry chided him for the umpteenth time.

_Never! Where would be the fun in that?_ he shot back.

Sighing with the ease of long practice, Harry shook his head and thought, _Shall we make our graceful exit?_

_While I would dearly love to stay to listen to the sycophantic whinging of drooling well-wishers... Quick, before they remember we're here._

Harry rolled his eyes. Severus smirked, raising an eyebrow. Departing the dais, they walked towards the doors of the Great Hall, still unconsciously hand-in-hand, the crowd parting for them but otherwise leaving them alone. However, near the doors, Ron and Hermione stopped them.

"Well, we almost made a clean get-away," Harry murmured.

Glancing at Hermione, he looked significantly at Ron, and then back to Hermione. She shrugged and looked away. _Not good then,_ he thought, feeling a little sad. She turned to glare at him fiercely and he understood. _I won't say anything,_ he spoke with his eyes. She nodded, satisfied.

"Not so fast, you two. You're not sneaking away without saying good night to us first," Ron said with a mock growl.

"Oh shave it, Weasley," Severus said severely. "I thought we were eating breakfast together tomorrow morning."

"Oh, we are," Hermione replied. "But we wanted to wish you both a happy anniversary." She smiled. "Your _other_ anniversary."

"Ah, yes," Harry said smugly, thinking of their 'celebration' two nights before, "_that_ one."

"Here," Ron said, holding out a largish package.

Looking at Severus for confirmation, which he got along with a more normal snide comment, he said to Ron and Hermione, "Come. Join us in our rooms where we can be private."

"All right, lead the way," Hermione said with a soft laugh.

_Don't we always?_ Severus commented as they slowly walked to their quarters.

After settling down with warm snifters of old brandy Severus had acquired in their travels together, they finally relaxed from what had been a long and tiring day. Severus made the comment that the brandy, though old, was younger than he was.

"Think they'll miss us?" Harry asked.

"Not with the Forget-Me-Please charm I cast before we left. One of the more useful things Albus taught me," Severus replied with a small smile.

"Here, you can open this now," said Ron, rising painfully from the old love seat and handing Severus the large package.

Setting his snifter on the table by his side, Severus took the package with a nod of thanks and began removing the paper wrapping. Harry leaned over to get a better look at the book revealed under the plain brown paper. Severus reverently ran his hand over its fine old leather. At his touch, letters flowed across the cover, "Memories Our ."

Mystified, Harry touched the cover and other words filled the gaps, " Of Life."

"Memories of Our Life," Harry read aloud. He looked at Ron and Hermione. "A memory book? Thank you so much!"

"Yes, and you're most welcome. It took us forever to gather all the photos and I went to Diagon Alley several times to find the book we wanted; it's very old."

"Older than me?" Severus chuckled. "Must be positively ancient, then."

They turned the pages and were greeted by wizard photos of Ron, Hermione, and Harry at school along with Draco and even one of Snape, the Potions master, with green slime dripping off his hooked nose.

"Good thing Creevey's not here right now," Severus growled watching a glob of slime fall off the ceiling onto his photo head. "What a scowl! I must practice that more often. Might have come in handy last month with the Board of Governors," he said, his face scrunching up into a ridiculous parody of the expression he'd often worn at the time. The others laughed uproariously at the sight.

Still wearing the scowl, he somehow made himself look like Lukas Peabody, the current Minister of Magic, a 'righteous moralist' and one of their worst detractors over the years; it had been he--as then Director of the Hogwarts Board of Governors--who had required the Weasleys' _Custos Morum_ when they'd adopted Lenore. Severus hated him and would rant at length about how very much he missed Cornelius Fudge, who'd been merely an idiot and Arthur Weasley, who'd been a prince.

"Now Severus, I'll have no more of your--unnatural--practices," he snarled in an uncanny imitation of Peabody's pernickety, nasal voice, "We must set a 'good example' for the children, of course. I _must_ insist that you and Mr Potter reside in separate quarters for the duration of the term."

Stopping mid-laugh, Harry stared at Severus, his jaw hanging open, _feeling_ the strong latent anger under Severus' imitation of the Minister. Trying to lighten the mood, he exclaimed, "He didn't? Oh Merlin, what did you tell him?"

Severus struck a pose, like he was behind his desk, the whitened knuckles of his folded hands the only indicator of how furious he'd been. "I told him, 'The only unnatural thing I see here is a prick hiding behind his verbal _cajones_. Separate quarters? Absolutely not! We are _most_ discreet while out in the student body, but what we do with each other's bodies is of our own concern. Now, butt out of my private life; I can only handle _one_ arsehole at a time.'"

Three pairs of rounded eyes gazed back at him. Harry was the first to recover, his body twitching as he fell back on the sofa, arms clutching his stomach, legs on the floor, as he writhed with the force of his silent laughter. Ron and Hermione were in no better condition, both desperately trying to gulp in air, their faces turning purple.

Severus sat there, a small smile of satisfaction brightening his austere face.

Harry let out a humph of air before settling back helpless in his peals of laughter, his hand on Severus' arm. Severus' mouth began to twitch, his perspective restored and within moments, the four of them were belly-laughing.

"Oh god--oh my god--oh my," Ron chuffed. "Oh, gods, a moment worthy of Draco."

"No," huff, "Draco--would--have--been--more--_graphic_," Hermione finally gasped out.

Their laughter increased and then faded until they were reduced to quiet chuckles and low hiccups. Ron pointed at the book still in Severus' lap. "Keep going," he commanded loftily.

Severus raised one sardonic brow at him, but complied. The next photos were of Severus and Harry including one from their wedding.

"Where did you find this?" Severus queried, his eyes fixed on the photo of the two of them, the cord wrapped around their hands during their binding. Albus beamed at them benevolently, his hands on theirs. Harry was gazing longingly at Severus whose half-lidded eyes devouring Harry's was the only indication of how much control he'd been exerting at the time. He remembered that moment with a slight shiver of distaste at the compulsion they'd been under. He much preferred the chosen loving than the coerced. _Were we ever that young?_ he asked himself.

Ron told him it had been found a few months ago in the Dumbledore Archives. "When the curator would neither give nor sell it to me, I took it upon myself to--liberate--it from the collection." Ron stated proudly.

"In other words, you stole it," Harry said with a grin.

"That's _such_ an ugly term; I prefer 'returning it to its rightful owners', myself."

"He stole it," Severus said to Harry with a laugh.

Subsequent pages were eagerly turned and shared.

When they came to the photo of a champagne-soaked Ron from this evening and one of a triumphant Severus, Harry asked them, "How ever did you get these in here so quickly?"

"Dennis took the pictures with that self-developing film you designed and he gave us the pictures as we were leaving to intercept you. Hell, he's been combing through his brother's photos for months for us. The rest, as they say, was magic," Ron replied on a laugh.

Severus turned the page to the last picture in the book. It was on a page by itself and was of them locked in their timeless embrace at the end of the Lightspell. Their intimate stance bespoke their long-shared passion as their bodies pressed close, and love shone on their lined faces. As they broke apart, eyes to eyes, hand to hand, the wonder and joy of their devotion glowed from their very skin.

Harry gently ran his finger over the photo as it began to cycle a second time. "So that's what we look like now," he said softly, a catch in his voice. "Not so much different than what we were, then," he slowly finished, turning back to their bonding picture.

"Don't go soft on me now, boy," Severus said, hoarsely.

Harry chuckled, "Quiet, You Slippery Snake Oil Salesman."

On a laugh: "Graceless Bludger Fodder."

Spoken harshly: "Snape."

Growled: "Potter."

"Mine," rumbled so softly no one else but Severus heard.

On a whisper: "Mine."

Clear dark eyes locked with misty green and then closed. Lips joined, their memories and minds fused into one. The spell chose its own moments.

Noticing their preoccupation, Ron and Hermione talked of other matters, giving them their privacy. When it became apparent they might not ever stop, Hermione nodded to Ron, indicating they should either end it or else quietly leave.

Ron chose to stay. Looking around the living room, everywhere but at them, he spied the boxes still awaiting transport and, clearing his throat loudly, broke the moment. "So, when are you leaving?"

Startled, Harry and Severus pulled apart abruptly but still sat cosily next to each other on their old, beloved sofa. By unspoken agreement, Severus set the book and wrappings aside and, taking a deep breath to steady him, answered, "Harry leaves tomorrow morning with the bulk of our personal belongings. After I brief Colin and Dana, I'll follow in the afternoon with the rest of the library and my own personal items."

He paused and picked up the snifter, "We transferred the Wards over to Colin and Dana yesterday. You might have felt the rumblings. It was _most_ upset that Harry is leaving," he said with considerable understatement.

"I do _not_ intend to spend my last days in this castle," Harry mumbled crossly. With a shake, he continued, "The bloody thing just didn't want to let go. I think it got too cosy over the years. With all the extra wards, and the expansion to Hogsmeade, and the Draconus Wards, its bond with us just kept getting deeper and deeper. One would think the bloody thing was married to us or something."

Severus started at that statement as did Ron and Hermione. "I'd never thought of it that way, but you may be closer to the truth than you think. Even now I can still _feel_ part of the castle through you. Are we certain we transferred all the control over to them?" Severus asked.

What a disconcerting thought. Hogwarts and Hogsmeade were totally dependent on the Wards protecting them from Muggle discovery and if any small part was missing, the occupants would be vulnerable. What its collapse would mean to the rest of the Network was unthinkable.

Harry reached inside himself and Severus to _feel_ the bond of both their relationship and their relationship with the castle. Finding nothing to disturb him, he shrugged. "No, I think we transferred full control. What I'm experiencing right now is almost like a memory, for lack of a better word, an afterimage of what we once shared with it," he finished, not quite certain he'd expressed it right.

Severus had taken his own hard look and as he caught the _feeling_ Harry had, he nodded. "I concur. Control is definitely Colin and Dana's, although I'd not realised until now just how strong our bond was with the castle itself. I'm going to miss the ruddy thing."

Harry laughed at this, and said, "I know what you mean," as he stroked the hand entwined in his own.

Ron cleared his throat and they were suddenly aware of the others in the room. They'd forgot again for a moment. It happened often when they were alone with their friends, who tended to overlook the momentary lapses.

"I would like to propose a toast," Ron said suddenly, raising his snifter. When all had raised their drinks, he continued, "To old ties and new beginnings. To those we've lost and those we will meet, may our lives be as sweet as they have been today."

"To Albus and Lenore," Severus and Harry said together.

"To Draco," Ron and Hermione said in unison.

To this they saluted silently and drained their brandy.

Taking the book from Harry, Hermione flipped through their wedding pictures. "You two were lucky in a way. Only public _opinion_ kept marriages like yours from being more common, whereas we had to fight the _law_ to get married."

"Law _and_ bloodlines, if I recall," Severus corrected with a smirk.

Hermione blushed. "Our law, your bloodlines--what a mess."

"We never decided who get the better end of the deal," Harry said, chuckling.

"I did!" Severus and Hermione exclaimed together.

Ron shook his head. "You're both daft. Harry, Draco, and I won."

Brow raised, Severus asked, "Oh? And how did you come to such an erroneous conclusion?"

"Easy," Ron replied, winking at Harry. "We didn't have to do anything but sit back and watch the two of you go at it."

Given the disdainful harrumph originating next to him and Hermione's squeak of outrage, Harry wisely swallowed his laughter.

TBC


	9. A Case of Law and the Order of Things

**Bring Me To Life : A Continuation**  
by I Got Tired of Waiting

**Part I : The Past to the Present**  
**Intermission Four : A Case of Law and the Order of Things**

"It's the law, sir. Multiple partner marriages between opposite sexes are not allowed. Now if all three of you were men..." the hapless clerk at the Registry Office said, wanting to do anything but face one of the most respected and feared Aurors on the force. He sincerely wished he could help him, not because he had any special feelings on the subject, but because he wanted Ron well away from _his_ office.

Disgusted, Ron turned on his heel and strode back to his office in another part of the Ministry, wondering how on earth he was going to tell Draco and Hermione. He was confused, too, for he'd never heard there would be difficulties and didn't think his partners knew either, or they wouldn't have sent him to get the license.

On his way, he stopped by his father's office on the off-chance Arthur was about; he knew the odds were slim to none and worse if he wanted to actually see him. As the Minister of Magic, Arthur was a very busy man. However, his luck held and the first secretary he came across, Esmelda, showed him in.

Arthur looked up from the parchment he was reading, a rather boring petition from a rather boring wizard out in the sticks. With one look at Ron's face, he set it down on his desk, grateful for the interruption. He would soon regret that thought.

Ron flopped into the chair across from his father, disheartened with residues of the previous anger mixed in for good measure. He glanced around the office, pausing at all the photos of the family covering the walls. _That's all I want... a family, damn it!_

"Problem?" Arthur asked.

Ron huffed, blowing the hair out of his eyes and, recognizing his father's concern, let loose some of his suppressed anger, responding in an unreasonable voice, "Yes, I suppose you could say that. Hermione, Draco, and I decided to make our relationship official, but some officious toad just told me we can't... unless we're all blokes."

Arthur was pleased with the decision. He and Molly had secretly hoped they would marry _before_ the first child, for there was no doubt they were devoted to each other and wouldn't allow something as small as public opinion stand in the way of procreation. But not permitted? He'd never heard that before, but then again, their triple was the first he'd ever known to survive.

Leaning back in his chair, he perused the books on the shelves next to his desk. Finding the one he wanted, he levitated it to his desk. A mumbled spell opened it to the section he wanted and he bent over the tome, trying to decipher the tiny crabbed writing on the page. After reading a few paragraphs, he closed the book and sent it back to the shelf. He stared long at Ron.

"Technically, they're correct. A multiple partner, same-sex marriage is permitted with any number of partners, although personally I would call that an orgy, not a union." Arthur smiled half-heartedly at his own joke when Ron failed to respond.

He continued, "A multiple partner marriage of one male and any number of females is also permitted providing they all cohabitate in the same house and take the traditional surnaming of all resultant issue." Privately, he thought of exhaustion and screaming Harpies, but didn't voice the sentiment aloud.

"A union of the type you want is permitted only if _all_ male partners but one are sterile, and it must be proven by public Medi-witch certification. Simply put, the law allows for either no children or non-magical proof of only one father. Since I'm assuming that both you and Draco are fully functioning males and neither one of you is willing to be sterilized, then no, you wouldn't be permitted to marry as there's no way of proving parentage." He sighed. "I'm sorry; it's a question of bloodlines. The law is specific that clear bloodlines must be established through the marriage. You would, however, be allowed to adopt."

Ron stared at him, the incredulity warring with his black sense of humour. He shook his head and rising from the chair said, "Thanks Dad, I appreciate the help, but now I have to go home and tell Draco and Hermione. They'll be so thrilled."

Understanding his son's frustrations, Arthur replied, "If you need my help changing the law, just let me know."

"Huh?"

"Well, you're not going to just accept it are you?" he asked, thinking some positive action might erase the forlorn slump in Ron's shoulders. "I mean, I assume you're going to change it--for the children and all." Something akin to panic flitted across Ron's face. "If you're not married, they'll have no bloodlines, not to ment--"

"Uh, thanks Dad, I appreciate the support. I'll see what Hermione and Draco want to do." Suddenly Ron couldn't get out of there fast enough and as he bolted out of the office, Arthur allowed himself a small smile of satisfaction. He sighed again, and went back to the petition.

"I'll do it." Draco said after hearing about Ron's trip to the Registry Office.

"Do what?"

"Get tied. After all, the Malfoy name's not exactly popular right now and the Weasley name is well respected; it _is_ important we make it official," he replied reasonably, a sick feeling in his stomach.

"Like bloody hell you will," Hermione and Ron cried together. "I'd rather our children be illegitimate than have you do that," Hermione finished. "So don't even think about it."

Relieved despite his bravado, Draco accepted their loving embrace.

"We'll just have to fight it, that's all. There's got to be a way we can do this," she continued, her ire sparking in her eyes. "Besides, there's nothing stopping us from being bound, we just can't make the marriage contract official."

"Maybe Severus knows. Harry said he's had to deal with all kinds of legal issues over their marriage, especially the name. Can you believe they made them hyphenate their name?"

"If I recall," Hermione said, "It had something to do with the legality of your guardianship and the way Severus executed your father's estate, Draco. We all know he did exactly as you wanted and even with our testimony, they still gave him a hard time." She shook her head. "I guess we should be grateful we're not as scrutinized as they are and everyone pretty much leaves us alone; seems someone is always gunning for Severus."

Ron chuckled. "It's because Harry is so young. As if Harry was _ever_ that young." They all laughed at that.

Draco, ever the pragmatist, said drolly, "Now that we're agreed that everyone picks on Severus who, by the by, is perfectly capable of taking care of himself, what are _we_ going to do?

"It's too bloody bad we can't run the family lines down the mother's side," Ron chuffed. "Then there would be no question as to the bloodline. You always know who the mother is."

Hermione and Draco stared at Ron. Draco recovered first. "Ron that is abso-fucking-lutely brilliant! We're in the presence of genius! Change how the family line tracks, then it doesn't matters who the father is."

"Let's go see Severus," Ron suggested.

Severus had a headache. A really stupendous headache composed of the entire percussion section of the London Symphony pounding Tchaikovsky in the upper lobes of his brain. On the desk in front of him was a thick booklet with birthing and genetic charts so complicated they made the star charts he regularly churned out look like a child's crayon drawing.

He rubbed the bridge of his nose, willing it to go away. He'd begged for weeks for these charts and now that he finally had the time to go over them, he knew he had to master them quickly if he was ever going to employ them in a timely manner.

The more he thought about _why_ he had to learn them, the deeper his headache crept until his whole head pulsed in time with his heart, the throbbing robbing him of thought. He put his head in his hands unable to summon sufficient energy to walk across the room to retrieve a pain potion, which would at least reduce it to a dull roar.

A gentle kiss was tenderly placed on the back of his neck, the lips moving against his skin in cadence to a spell. With the gentlest of touches, strong cool fingers appeared at his temples and stroked the skin back into the hairline, each sure soft touch timed to the words spoken by the lips. Stroke by stroke, the headache receded until he shivered at the now-silent lips nipping his neck.

"I wish you wouldn't sneak up on me like that," Severus growled.

The lips smiled against his nape. "You're welcome," they said and then they were gone, the room as empty as it had been a few minutes before.

_Damn, I keep forgetting I have my own private health barometer now._ Even after the four years they'd been together, he couldn't help but wonder if Harry did things like this to help him or to allay his own discomfort.

_Idiot. I heard that._ He felt the smile coming along with the words and realised, once again he was being foolish. He heard the distant laugh. _Much better!_ And then Harry was gone.

Shaking his head over the incident, he bent back to the charts.

The Trio sat on the couch Harry and Severus usually occupied while they sat on the old love seat. _Need to get the springs fixed,_ Harry thought as he shifted again, trying to find a comfortable spot.

Severus leaned forward. "Let me see if I understand you correctly. You want to change not only the law, but centuries of tradition to run the bloodlines down the cognate line instead of the agnate line. Damn, and I thought you wanted something complicated. We should be able to do that in a couple hundred years, give or take a century." Severus was at his sarcastic best.

Hermione laughed, "Oh nothing quite that simple, Severus; we also want to get married."

Severus sputtered. He was beyond words. This was impossible.

She continued in a low serious voice, "I... we want babies--"

Severus noted Ron's wince and Draco's panic and smiled to himself.

"--Lots of them. And we want them legitimate."

He could feel Harry suppressing his laughter.

"Do you know how much time you're talking about?" he asked seriously.

Hermione studied him, her head cocked, "I have the time, Severus. I'm on sabbatical from the University and with our degrees finished, I'm free to do as I please."

Harry interrupted before Severus could open his mouth. "Really? How about we make a trade, then," he said thinking of Severus' headaches the last few weeks. "_We'll_ help you with the legal language and paperwork you need to change the law as well the Summation of Arguments and _you_ help Severus trace the bloodlines he needs for his succession plan. They're your charts so it should be fairly easy for you to figure them out."

Severus blinked. _Now why didn't I think of that?_ Then the full import of what Harry had said hit him and he almost choked. He silently urged Hermione to accept for he realised that in typical Potter fashion, Harry had just made them one sweet deal.

Hermione stared at him suspiciously, trying to find the catch, for she knew there had to be one; Severus was just being too quiet. She looked to Ron and then Draco. When both shrugged and nodded, she made up her mind; it really didn't matter in the long run. She knew it would take them years and even if it took her the same amount of time, at least they were experts in what she wanted and she certainly was the expert in what they wanted, so it would at least be done--expertly.

"Deal!" she exclaimed.

Severus almost expired on the spot. He couldn't believe she'd bought it. "Done," he said quickly holding out his hand, afraid she was going to change her mind before he could bind her to it. They shook on it, magically sealing their contract.

Severus showed proper gratitude to Harry that night starting right after they left and continuing well into the wee hours of the morning.

_Severus is very lucky I have an abundant capacity for humour and the absurd,_ Hermione thought as she put the quill down for the last time on the genealogy charts she'd put together for him over the last five years. _'Trace the bloodlines Severus needs for the succession plan', my arse. He forgot to mention the little detail about how bloody long the bloody-line would be. Git._

Writing finished, she tried to summon a sense of pride concerning her work, but it had taken so long, so much energy, she couldn't dredge up more than gratitude it was over. She looked over the hundreds of pages in the document and realised that not only would Severus been unable to finish it, but now that she knew how important it was, she was assured it had been done correctly.

_Actually now the real work has to begin and he has his work cut out for him. Should take him about sixty-five years to finish it._ She chuckled, knowing she really _had_ got the better end of the deal.

And she knew Severus hadn't been idle, either. Somehow, and she suspected it had been Harry's idea, he'd gathered the support of the women of the Wizarding community through Molly Weasley. With this subtle but powerful support, public opinion had turned faster than they'd thought. They already had legislature pending to change the bloodlines to the Cognate (maternal) Line and with Arthur Weasley backing it, it was certain to pass. Then they only had to reckon how to establish paternity and overcome the public's stigma against triple marriages. _One down, two to go._

When she'd first learned she was pregnant with Seth, they'd asked Severus to bind them regardless of the law. After much research, Severus found the right combination of spells and they'd been bound over a period of three days, in much the manner as Severus and Harry. By ancient custom, they were married and that would have to hold them until they could get legal recognition of their joining.

Then Seth was born, looking like _both_ Draco and Ron. Her charts showed conclusively that neither one of them alone had the genetic material to have made Seth as he was. She hypothesized that the special spells binding them had, over time, affected the resulting children and increased their magic; the bloodlines melded in a triple, blurring the genetic lines as the children inherited the genetic _and_ magical material of all parents. The genealogists would have fits.

Knowing the resulting confusion would only delay the law allowing them to marry, she sat on her discoveries and continued more mundane work at the Oxford Genealogy Centre. But when it did pass... She had her own ideas on how to proceed... As if drawn by the thought, little Seth came bouncing into the room with typical two year-old energy. She picked him up, wincing at the pain in her back from this, her second pregnancy, well advanced. _Any day now,_ she thought, _and not a moment too soon for me._

"Hi, little man," she cooed. He gave her a wet kiss, trying to sit on her tummy. The baby kicked at the pressure and Seth laughed delightedly. _Any time now would be very good!_

C'mon, Seth, let's go look at the baby's room. You can help me get it ready, all right?"

"Ah-ri'," he said and together they went to the new nursery.

Arthur danced with Hermione, but drew the line at Draco, so Molly did the honours with him and with Ron. He first had to find her in the witches' room trying to recover from her children's first dance as husband, wife, and husband.

It had been a long time coming. Twenty years, in fact, from the time Ron had first come to his office seething with frustration to this auspicious day when the three of them had been bound under the new law, their seven children legitimized. They now all bore the Malfoy-Granger-Weasley name.

So far it was a wild and noisy wedding.

As Arthur caught his breath, he thought about the ceremony. Hermione had asked Ginny and Molly to stand as witnesses for her, while Harry and Neville had stood for Ron. Draco surprised everyone by asking Seth. When objections were raised about the boy's age, Draco calmly reminded them that the 'young man' was no younger than he'd been when he'd stood for Severus. When Draco had asked Seth solemnly if he would stand as witness to his binding with his others, the maturity with which Seth responded with the ancient acceptance had been reason enough to allow it. That Draco had asked _him_ as well was a personal surprise, but the others seemed to expect it.

And of course, there'd never been any question that Severus would bind them. He recalled the gentleness gracing Severus' normally harsh face when he'd joined the three of them, the silk cords wrapped in a new significant pattern around their three joined right arms, their bodies forming the ancient Trivarium.

Then came the speeches. He was especially touched by Draco's heartfelt thanks to the Snape-Potters and the Weasleys for their efforts in passing the new law (despite the accusations of nepotism) and their support of their relationship and family. The boy had really grown on him over the years.

Everything had been fine until the first dance of the evening. When The Trio had begun their sensuous three-way dance, Molly had gasped and covered the eyes of the littlest ones, the youngest being two. Arthur, after recovering from the initial shock of the thing had privately thought their... coordination especially entertaining.

The dancing continued and after a few turns with Molly, they retired to the sidelines to let the younger folk take the floor. Draco had come by and put his hand on his shoulder. Leaning close so Molly couldn't hear, he said softly but wickedly, "I'm starting a pool on how long it takes Severus to take Harry home.

Arthur looked up at him and then followed his eyes back to the dance floor. _Well, will wonders never cease?_

There on the dance floor, gliding across the floor like they were all alone were Harry and Severus. The music currently playing was a slow waltz and Arthur was amazed at the grace with which they covered the floor, their formal robes sweeping out around them. There was a mature sensuality to their movements that made the efforts of the other guests, equally adept at the dance, seem crude and jerky.

Arthur wasn't quite certain what shocked him the most. Was it their solemn movements, lost in the music, or that they were publicly together in the first place? Except for a few rare moments in private while they'd worked together over the years, not really embarrassing in the least, he'd never seen them even touch in public. That they should do so now was astonishing and Arthur began to understand why Draco had made the comment--and offered the bet.

He whispered to Draco, "You're on. Two Galleons on thirty minutes." He passed the coins over to him with a wink.

Draco grinned. "I'll see your two and go for twenty minutes. Hermione's not even certain they'll last that long."

Arthur won the pot, for exactly 31 minutes, 30 seconds later, Severus and Harry made their hasty, distracted good-byes.

Severus was feeling a bit out of sorts. He couldn't begin to count how many times he'd officiated at weddings and bindings and joinings or whatever the current jargon was for a marriage contract. Usually he went alone. On rarer occasions, like tonight, Harry was asked to Witness and when the ceremony was done, like most officiators, they would fade into the background and make good their escape.

He didn't find weddings particularly romantic, not that he considered himself as such in the first place. But over the years, Harry's more romantic nature had worn off on him and he was a bit less crusty than he used to be.

All right, a lot less crusty.

But there was something about The Trio. He'd always liked Draco, finding his irony and wicked insight amusing when he'd been his student; he approved of the precise way Draco went about everything in his life from making potions to stalking enemies. Hermione he could understand and there was a secret part of him which had always admired her ability to be absolutely brilliant yet likable. It was a skill he'd never really mastered.

And he supposed that one could admire Ron's stalwart loyalty, but his appeal to the other two had remained a mystery to him. That is until he'd observed him on some of the Auror raids and realised that Ron carried the most magical power of the three. The calculated risks he took in his job were neither foolhardy nor haphazard; Ron was the master chess player, always a few steps ahead of his opponent and like his chess game he was wicked and usually won.

So today, when three of the people he'd come to admire the most were finally joined, one would think he'd be happy. But he wasn't. Well, he was happy for them. They'd waited longer than anybody had a right to expect. He just wasn't happy for himself. And he was confounded by it. While his normal state was best described as not unhappy--but not ecstatic either--this unwelcome downswing into the doldrums was unusual for him. And even knowing why he was depressed, he couldn't fix it, and that made it even worse.

Everyone was touching. Except him and Harry. Aside from The Trio, (and that was different somehow) no one touched them. And they couldn't touch each other except with their eyes.

Harry zeroed in on him from across the room. He felt Severus' thoughts and wondered what he could do to cheer him up. The choices were very limited. He caught sight of the dancers and sighed; he knew he was a horrible dancer, but...

Severus followed his eyes and saw the dancers on the floor and caught Harry's small wistful tendril. Thinking about it a bit, he watched the others and realised there was a good chance he and Harry could take few spins around the floor, a socially acceptable way of publicly touching without attracting any undue notice.

So when Harry moved away from the group with whom he was talking, Severus went up to him and, almost shyly taking his hand, asked him to dance. Incredulous, Harry stared at him and said yes.

Dancing. After twenty-four years together, it had been the first time Harry and Severus had danced.

It was pure joy and Harry felt no surprise that Severus danced as well as he did everything else. Not knowing what was going to happen, Harry simply followed Severus' lead and found that moving with his husband's graceful body in time to the sweeping music was as arousing as watching him stalk. His movements were powerful and when Severus forgot himself and shifted Harry closer, there'd been passion as well.

Each turn, each sweep of bodies to the music drove them deeper and deeper into themselves until they couldn't separate the music from their movements and the rest of the world faded away leaving only them.

After they'd left early, after they'd gone home, in the privacy of their own quarters, oh! so tender their love-making. In the firelight, their ardour spent, dark eyes captivated green ones. "I love you," spoken lighter than a whisper, stronger than the tide, the first time he'd ever said it aloud, but always known, always implied.

Harry's response, "I know. I love you back," spoken into ardent lips as they fell into the gentlest of kisses, which spun away once more into heated passion.

The spell, finally replete, left them with a feeling of peace like they'd never known before... and rarely experienced since.

TBC


	10. Confession, They Say, Is Good For Som

**Bring Me To Life : A Continuation**  
by I Got Tired of Waiting

**Part I : The Past to the Present**  
**Confession, They Say, Is Good For... Something**

_It was rather special, wasn't it? I find it strange that with all my verbosity, I had such a hard time with those three simple words._

_There are not words enough; you had to figure it out before you could say them, and of course, get around that stubborn pride of yours,_ Harry smirked.

_Me? Stubborn? Au contraire!_

Harry just sent him his mental snort of derision with a roll of his eyes. Some things were just better left unsaid.

Harry looked over at Ron and Hermione, who were talking quietly to each other.

_Oops, we did it again,_ he thought.

_Remind me to thank them sometime,_ Severus replied with a snort.

_I can do that, right after I remind you to tell me what it was you skipped over this evening._

_Shit, I forgot about that,_ Severus thought hoping he could distract Harry from asking again.

"Hey, you two, we're done. Severus says to thank you," Harry called out.

"It's about bloody time," Ron declared, turning back to them. "Geez, the way you two carry on sometimes..."

"Not bad for a couple of old geezers," Harry said on a laugh.

"Old? _Old?!_ You may be old, but I'm just starting," Severus said, laughing, his shoulder joint cracking as he waved his arm around. They all dissolved in laughter at his startled expression.

"Tell that to your joints, then. I'm tired of getting the potions in the morning _and_ hearing you grouse about your poor blighted back," he said with a knowing chuckle.

Severus swatted him on the shoulder. _I'll show you old..._ Harry squirmed under the barrage of graphic images flooding his head. _I have plans for you tonight._ Unexpectedly, their bond ran ripples through them, their hands tightened, and with a great effort, they tore their eyes from each other and focused on Ron and Hermione.

The exchange between them wasn't lost on the other two who, with a fond knowing glance at each other, knew from past experience that these momentary losses of control would only increase as time went by until it would be utterly embarrassing to be with them. _Time to go,_ they both thought together, their eyes conveying worlds of meaning.

Winding down with a little desultory conversation, they rose to bid their adieus until the morning, promising to meet at breakfast. After exchanging hugs with each other, Severus closed the door behind them.

They were finally alone.

Severus felt singularly--impatient.

With a strong stride, he closed the distance between them, and threading his hand through Harry's silky hair, pulled him into a crushing kiss. Harry immediately responded by pressing himself closer, arms wrapping tight, trying to meld himself into his lover, their hearts racing as one.

They eventually found themselves in bed, clothing divested in stages, punctuated by low moans and hot mouths on satin skin. The soft mattress cushioning them, age fell away as they forgot the present and loved through the past. Each wanting more, each intimately knowing what pleased the other most, they took advantage of their years together to pleasure each other to the fullest.

Harry fell captive to Severus' long-fingered dexterous hands; Severus burned with Harry's trailing kisses.

Ardent lips--Fiery kisses--Stabbing tongues.

Trembling hands coating his length--Sliding into Harry--Hot and tight.

_Oh gods, there is nothing like this._

Smooth sweat-slicked bodies fusing into one.

_More--Need More_

Hips thrusting--Arms tightening--Chest to chest, heart to heart--Frantic--Mouth to mouth--Tongues dancing. The rhythm of their loving took its own course.

_More--Need More_

Thrust--  
_Yes._  
--Hot nips with teeth and tongue on Severus' neck--

Thrust--  
_Oh gods._  
--Severus' talented hands stroking the hard, hot length between them--

Thrust--  
_Yesss._  
--Holding tight, arms bound around each other, bodies straining, their minds screaming in one voice as they reached their exquisite, shuddering release.

Panting harshly--Slowly drawing nearer to earth--Hands caressing--Hips writhing in involuntary pushing thrusts--Short sweet nips of lips on willing flesh coaxing out every ounce of pleasure.

Back to reality--the waves of pleasure subsided, leaving only a deep abiding sense of peace and fulfilment.

Pulling apart--dealing with the separation--it was sweet torture.

"Oh, I'm going to regret this in the morning," Severus said with a smile and a stiff stretch. Sliding off Harry, he found himself, once more, on the floor. Without thought, he mumbled the cleaning spell.

"Probably, but it was worth it. You've not lost your touch, lover," Harry replied with a sated but tired grin. Turning on his side, he leaned in and lightly kissed Severus on the lips.

"'Quit trying to be nice. You're creeping me out,'" Severus said, his voice mimicking Harry's words before their marriage. For some reason that particular turn of phrase had always amused him.

"Understated simpleton," Harry retorted with a grin.

"Better, much better," Severus said on a yawn. He eyed Harry through narrowed eyes for a moment and then muttered, "Insolent boy."

"Which reminds me," Harry said with a finger down Severus' cheek. "You were going to tell me something earlier." He dragged the finger down his neck and started playing with his ear.

"I was?" Severus shivered under Harry's expert touch. _Damn, I guess I didn't distract him enough._

"Yes, you told me to remind you. Something about a lesson from Albus?" The finger curled its way into his hair. "It was _most_ intriguing."

"You're not going to let me sleep are you?" he asked grabbing the tantalizing hand with the finger. He slowly ran his tongue up the offending digit.

Harry shuddered, surprised by a wave of fresh desire. With an effort, he continued, "Not with a juicy titbit like that floating in my head. Really, Severus, where are your manners? It would be exceedingly impolite to make me lose sleep over it."

"As ill-mannered as making me lose sleep with..." He slipped the finger into his mouth, slowly sliding it out, licking the end. Harry moaned, the tickling tingling making him hard again.

Huskily, "You're redirecting again--very well, I might add."

_Damn. It was worth a try..._

Harry dampened the waves of desire flooding him. "Now what is so important that you are willing to risk my sleep to avoid talking about it?"

"You're not going to let it go are you?" Severus growled.

"Nope," Harry replied with a small grin.

"Damn, I knew I should have kept my mind shut."

With a small smile of triumph, Harry got up and extended a hand to Severus, pulling him up from the floor. Severus took a moment to admire the still-sculpted chest, the muscles rippling as Harry shifted and took part of his weight as he helped him up. _He's still a very fine looking man. And all mine,_ he thought with possessiveness.

He felt the sweet tightness again.

Harry flushed lightly when he caught the avaricious nature of Severus' thought and the growing evidence of his need. _We're both too old for this,_ he thought privately, but said nothing as he handed Severus his dressing gown ostensibly against the chill in the room before donning his own. _Maybe not seeing it will help,_ he thought with a wider grin.

Severus looked at him sharply, one eyebrow raised. Harry shrugged, tilting his head.

They went into the living room. Still half-aroused, Severus settled himself on the couch with one leg tucked under him while Harry poured them both a brandy. Bringing the snifters and the decanter, he handed one over, put the bottle on the table in front of them, and sat down facing his husband.

Uncomfortable, Severus cleared his throat. He took a long swig of his brandy and unable to meet Harry's eyes said, "I suspect this would have been much easier had I done it earlier with about fifty feet separating us."

Harry chuckled and gently touched Severus' cheek, his usual impatience surprisingly missing.

Severus took his hand and settled it in his lap, the fingers of his other hand running lazy circles over the up-turned palm, "You remember the days before I started travelling with you?"

At Harry's nod, he continued, "I learned something important then, perhaps a bit sooner. Like I said earlier, Albus seemed to think I was missing the point and, as usual, the old bugger was right; he was teaching me before I ever knew I needed the lesson." He took another sip of the brandy.

Harry privately thought Albus had always been like that; a trick they'd never learned.

"Before coming to Hogwarts, and even after, I admit, I always thought myself--intellectually superior because of my studies in the Dark Arts."

Harry sat up and stared at Severus. While this wasn't new information, he was surprised Severus would say so.

"Albus bade me return to Hogwarts. While I was... reluctant to do so, I also deeply regretted my involvement with Voldemort, whom I'd joined primarily at Lucius' urgings more than any personal convictions. However, I quickly discovered _my_ Lucius didn't exist anymore; I... _needed_ to leave."

"At first my tenure at Hogwarts was torture, my neat and ordered world shredded, reduced to stuffing knowledge into the heads of inattentive gits more concerned with an exciting game than the things which could save their lives."

Harry nodded; he'd heard words to that effect from him before.

"The teachers weren't much better. I couldn't abide their gossip. They... crowded me, so I wallowed in my solitude. I played the part of the contemptible Potions master--Snape, The Death Eater," he said with a sneer.

_Well, that explains a lot,_ Harry thought.

"Minerva was never fooled nor was Albus or Poppy and they three, in their way, kept me from falling, kept me--connected.

"You have most of my memories; I needn't tell you the sequence of events. Albus recruited me to spy for his beloved Order, the subsequent consequences of that little game. And all the while the students went about their petty business, unconcerned with what was happening outside their insulated world. While I suffered; it was hard to endure sometimes."

Harry leant over and kissed him. Severus finally looked at him, his eyes softening.

He whispered, "And then you showed up, with your wonder, your innocence despite the treatment from your Muggle family. Oh yes, there were whispers of that too in the staff room."

Harry took his hand. "I felt a deep... connection to you when I first saw you, but I couldn't see past your father and my memories of his friends to see who you were. All the actions in your first year, the impetuosity, the foolhardy bravery, the disregard for your friends, all pointed to James. You were--are--such a Gryffindor." He chuckled.

Harry twined their fingers, not minding his candour.

"But something changed over the following years and by the end of your sixth year, I began to look past all the public trappings. I saw the first thing Albus wanted me to see: that we really were kindred souls. That you were as privately tortured by the deaths you felt responsible for as I was with my own ghosts."

He looked down at their entwined hands. "It was the first time I realised we were more alike than I wanted to admit. But, you were so young, and I--I was old--well, I felt old anyway--a teacher--the responsible one. There could be no congress between us... So, I pushed you away from me with hurtful sarcasm and hateful demeanour, constantly picking on you in a desperate attempt to blind you to _me_."

"I used to watch you look at me with such hate and confusion. I knew it was the only course I could take, so I perpetuated the charade. I never even considered waiting for you until you were older; the years between us seemed insurmountable. But Albus... Albus knew better and bided his time."

He looked at Harry then and was surprised by the intensity of his pose. It was as if he was listening with his pores.

"And so it continued until you hit me with that spell in Diagon Alley. The Witnessed spell that bound us. To this day, although I don't know how he did it and though he claimed he only took advantage of sheer happenstance, there is still a part of me that thinks Albus engineered the whole sordid thing."

Eyebrow raised, Harry conveyed to Severus that he'd thought this too.

"It was torture, sweet torture. I fought myself constantly. The gods help me, how I wanted you. I needed you. Needed to belong. Suddenly, I was in the position to win the only thing I really wanted from you--your approval. I still wasn't convinced it would work, but you know the story as well as I."

He lifted his hand and touched Harry's face, the fingers lightly tracing the line of his cheek. He dropped his hand back into his lap and continued, "It wasn't until we were working on the Draconus Wards and later when we were really separated for the first time that I saw the next thing Albus had wanted me to see--your power. I knew you had power, had felt it when we worked together, felt it when we joined but I never really _knew_ just how deep it ran until I watched you wrestle with the Wards. You worked day after day expending, squandering that power like it was infinite. And you did it with such ease."

Harry moved to protest.

"Yes, I know." He put his fingers on Harry's mouth to stop his instant objection, trembled when Harry kissed those fingers. "I know how much it drains you to use it, intimately I know it, but what you have inside is so huge, so wild, I was--and still am--awed at the control you have over it--as natural as breathing to you. Had Voldemort even a fraction of the power you wield with such ridiculous ease, he would be ruling us even now."

He took another sip of the brandy, emptying the glass. Harry refilled it. He hadn't touched his yet, drunk as he was on Severus' words, his dulcet voice.

"Draco was the one who pointed out the obvious to me. With his usual forthright style he told me I was a fool for closing you out, for treating you than less than an equal, _for mistaking your humility for weakness_.

"Which is when I realised the third thing Albus was trying to show me: your strong innate core, your good heart, your _humility_ were the _intuitive_ tools you use to control your potent magic; this made you at the very least my equal, even though you were younger. While my skill is equal to yours, it's hard-earned; yours is instinctive. The lesson was that intuition and instinct can equal intellect and, in your case, can even surpass it. It's the end, the result that matters, not the means to it. It was very humbling to get his point. I don't do humble well."

Harry chuckled and finally took a sip of the brandy, trying to hide his dancing eyes in the glass.

Eyeing him suspiciously, Severus went on, "When you were gone setting the Wards, I had too much time to think. You'd return to me, staggering with exhaustion yet quietly triumphant, and as I held you those nights, I realised you never bragged even though you'd well earned the right to do so. You were more concerned with getting back out in the field and finishing the work than you were of your own safety. At first I thought this a Gryffindor thing, and perhaps it was; however, it didn't _feel_ that way. I'm not very good at that either, am I?"

Harry gave him a lingering kiss. Gazing at him, green eyes to black, he replied, "Oh I don't know about that, you _feel_ pretty good to me."

Severus chuckled, his hand rising of its own volition to cup Harry's cheek. Holding it there, the pad of his thumb running over Harry's lips, he leant close and whispered, "I learned from you the last lesson Albus tried to teach me: humility makes one stronger than arrogance."

He gently replaced his thumb with his lips, saying quietly into them, "It was quite a trying time for me to wrap myself around and embrace the concept. But, bit by bit, I stopped fighting you--" He nipped Harry's bottom lip.

"Stopped trying to keep you out--" His tongue lightly traced his lips.

"Accepted you as my equal--" He explored the depths of Harry's mouth.

_Became accustomed to your presence inside of me--_ He continued the kiss, burying his hand in Harry's hair. _It was such a relief to finally feel all of you._

He kissed Harry deeper, his hands framing his face. Harry's hands grasped his wrists and he held on while swells of pleasure roiled through him.

Severus broke away slightly, his heart racing, breath coming in fast gasps, smouldering black eyes to fiery green. "Now I cannot imagine not having you there, inside me, one with me--"

It was too much for Harry. He'd yearned for this final capitulation and now that he had it, he was _never_ going to let it go.

Harry set the snifter aside and, gently pushing Severus back into the couch cushions, covered him with his happy, enthusiastic body, his arms braced on either side of him, saying with a wicked gleam, "You're very lucky you didn't tell me all this earlier in the Hall. Your little spectacle would have been _nothing_ compared to mine."

Severus laughed appreciatively at the distinction and the mental picture forming in his head, _Wicked boy._ He wrapped his arms around the slender body on top of him, his legs curling around to capture his legs even as Harry, still braced above him, dipped his head and captured his mouth in a searing kiss, his hips undulating into Severus'.

What they shared next was beyond words, beyond touch. They were one, they were real in body, in mind, in soul; fused not only by the spell, but by their own deep love for each other.

All the barriers were gone.

They each could feel the other's pleasure and with the each touch, each caress, their pleasure doubled as both felt what the other was feeling.

It was intense.  
It was wild and intoxicating.  
It was breath-taking.

And in the sweet quiet delight following their loving, they knew true contentment.

But all good things cannot last forever. Their bodies sore and stiff, they reluctantly made their way to their bed chamber. Removing their dressing gowns, they climbed gingerly into the bed and, sinking into its downy support, lay back down with deep sighs of relief.

Harry settled his back against Severus' front, his arm covering Severus' as he snaked it around his waist. He snuggled deeper, touching as much of his body against him as he could. Comforted by the familiar ritual, Severus patiently waited until Harry was comfortable before he warmly kissed the side of Harry's neck and pulled the covers over them.

"Mmmm. Nice. 'Night, Severus," Harry murmured, kissing the palm of Severus' hand. "I love you," he whispered.

He graced another silky kiss to Harry's neck, whispering tenderly, "I love you back."

Harry sighed, replete.

Their legs and hands tangled and with the feel of warm, soft breathing, they fell into a deep, languid sleep.

TBC


	11. Breathe Into Me and Make Me Real

**Bring Me To Life : A Continuation**  
by I Got Tired of Waiting

**Part II : Dearly Departed**  
**Breathe Into Me and Make Me Real**

_Hot slick heat.  
Churning masses of fire and smoke.  
Each breath burning his lungs.  
Bands of steel tightening around his chest.  
Tightening--tightening--can't breathe--_

Harry woke up suffocating. Panicking, he clawed the bands of molten iron surrounding his throat and chest, making it impossible to breathe. Instead of encountering hot edges of metal, his hands met hard muscle wrapped tightly around him, tendons straining as they pulled Harry taut against Severus' chest.

"Severus, wake up," he wheezed as he desperately tried to break the stranglehold. "Severus! Wake UP!" he rasped loudly, the arms about him tightening even further. The heat from Severus' body was excruciating as more and more of him came into contact with it.

_Heat? Hot?_ The radiating heat seared him. _Something's wrong,_ he thought, trying to stay calm. _There must be another way to escape._ The grasping arms still held him captive so, as he continued to call Severus' name in a desperate bid to wake him, he squirmed and wriggled his sweaty body down the bed until he slipped out of his lover's burning hot arms.

_Severus?_ he mind-called, hoping to reach him in his dreams but received no response. After lighting the room's lamps with a hurried spell, he knelt by Severus' side, touching and feeling all over his body, stunned at the fever radiating from every pore. _Even his eyes are hot and dry,_ he thought, pulling the fragile lids back. Severus moaned and Harry had just a few seconds of hope, thinking that Severus might be waking, when his body convulsed, back arched off the bed at an impossible height. Severus shouted one "NO" before collapsing back onto the bed, his body limp and still.

Panicked beyond anything he'd ever known, Harry ran a hand through his unruly hair before tentatively stretching out his hand to see... _Oh, thank the gods, he's still breathing,_ he thought as he saw the chest flutter, but other than that, there was no sign of life in his husband. _Must get help, get Seth. He will know what to do._

He hurriedly hobbled to the fireplace, ignoring the sharp pain in his hips. Grabbing some Floo powder, he threw it gracelessly into the remaining embers of the fire as he called, "Setherus."

Answering the Floo compulsion, Seth's sleepy face appeared in the flames. "Harry! Whatever is the matter?"

"It's Severus. He's very sick. Has a high fever and convulsions. I need your help."

"I'm on my way," Seth replied calmly. Now fully awake, his head disappeared from the fire.

_On his way. Good,_ Harry thought. Looking down, he realised his state of complete undress. _Clothes. Clothes would be good._ He hastily dressed in the handiest thing he could find: robes, black tee, and trousers from the day before when he'd finished packing. Standing by the bed, he dressed. As he was fastening the boots, someone urgently pounded the front door.

"Shit! I forgot to remove the Floo-lock on the fireplace." His breathless, "Stu-pid, stu-pid, stu-pid..." matched his ungainly steps as he half-ran, half-hopped through the suite. Throwing the door open, he stepped aside as Seth swept into the apartment, breathing hard from his run from the infirmary to their quarters. Dressing gown flapping, Seth strode smoothly through the living room into the bedroom beyond, leaving Harry behind to make his best pace back. He arrived just as Severus arched into another convulsion, worse than the one before.

With a mighty effort, Seth rolled Severus onto his side. Severus writhed with the unabating violent convulsions, his hands clawing the air and latching onto the thing nearest him--Seth's wand arm. Motioning Harry to stand next to him, they pried Severus' hands off Seth and onto Harry as Seth needed his hands free. While Harry steadied Severus, Seth drew his wand and said, _"Finis Rictus."_ Immediately, Severus' body stopped mid-convulsion, falling limply back onto the bed, his open mouth taking in harsh, gulping breaths.

Still breathing deeply himself, Seth ran his hands over Severus' naked body. Feeling the unusual heat, he closed his eyes and with his hands splayed on Severus' chest, let his extra senses take in Severus' condition. _105 degrees and rising,_ he thought. Through bones and organs, brain and nervous systems, he ran his tests through every inch of the very sick man in front of him. Finally pulling them back into himself, he asked Harry, "How long has he been like this?"

"I don't know. It's now, what? 5:00 AM? Ron and Hermione left at 10:00 PM and we..." he flushed, "We retired sometime after midnight, I think. I woke up fifteen minutes ago. He was holding me so tightly he was choking me; I couldn't breathe. I'd been dreaming of fire, hot fire. When I woke up and finally shimmied away from him, he was like this, so hot. Then he had one convulsion, but nothing like this last one. And then I called you," he finished lamely.

Seth tilted his head in consideration and then asked, "And nothing else? Was he feeling poorly earlier?"

Shaking his head, Harry asked, "What's wrong with him?"

"I don't know. Other than the obvious symptoms, I can't sense anything else amiss--just the fever and the fever-induced convulsions. I won't lie to you Harry, his fever is very, very high, dangerous to anyone, let alone a man of his age. Let's get him to the infirmary where I can examine him better and test him further."

At Harry's nod, Seth transfigured a stretcher while Harry grabbed the top sheet off the bed. They levitated him onto the stretcher and covered him with the thin cotton. Together, one on each side, they transported Severus to the infirmary through the silent, moonlit halls, meeting no one. Harry held Severus' limp hand firmly throughout the entire surreal journey.

Once they'd reached their destination, Agatha Weasley stepped out of the office and rushed over to help Seth transfer Severus to the bed in the back private room. Not much had changed since the days Harry and Severus had struggled against the spell here; if anything, it was smaller, more compact as its use shifted from healing those injured in battle, to those suffering Quidditch wounds or the odd hexing gone awry.

Finally settling him, Seth and Agatha began to run a series of tests using spells and their senses. They briefly discussed asking Harry to stand aside but, knowing their devotion to each other, they couldn't bring themselves to separate them, so they worked around him.

Harry sat by the bedside oblivious to the activity around him. Scared witless, he helplessly watched Severus fall sicker with each passing minute. That he himself wasn't bond-sick confounded him. He didn't _feel_ Severus' fever, didn't _feel_ the convulsions racking his body. He felt--separate. Alone. And he didn't like it.

Test after test, spell after spell, nothing improved Severus' condition. At best they'd halted the escalation of his fever, which had steadily soared from when Seth had examined him in their rooms. The fever-convulsions were stopped as soon as they started, each one weakening the man further as his body fought the furnace inside.

Around mid-morning, Ron and Hermione ran into the infirmary.

"Harry, what happened? We waited for you at breakfast and when you didn't show, we looked everywhere for you both until Remus found us and told us you were here. He's outside guarding the entrance to keep people out," she ended in a rush.

She gasped when she saw the dullness in Harry's eyes as he stood stretching and turned to look at her. "I don't know, Hermione. _They_ don't know. He's burning up with fever and convulsing from it. Other than that, they can find nothing wrong with him." He paused and continued so quietly, Ron and Hermione had to lean in to hear him, "They won't say, but I think he's dying. He's... separate. He's _never_ separate from me. And after last night when we..." his voice trailed off. "Damn it, if he's sick, I'm sick. If I'm sick, he's sick." With confused distress he cried, "Oh gods, _what's wrong_ with him? With us?"

One on each side, Ron and Hermione closed in and held him tightly, pouring out all the love they had for him and Severus. He resisted a moment and then relaxed into their embrace, which offered a strong measure of comfort. They stayed that way for a long time. When he broke the contact, they both gave his dry eyes watery glances.

Seth strode into the room with a tray and exclaimed, "I am _so_ glad to see you two. Maybe you can talk some sense into him; he's refused to eat anything."

Ron held up his hands in surrender, "Oh-no-you-don't. Far be it from me to tell Harry Potter what to do." He chuckled at Seth's irritation and added sagely, "When he's hungry he'll eat. I've never known him to miss anything he really wanted."

Hermione laughed at this and Harry gave him a mock glare before laughing with them. He felt like he hadn't laughed in years. _Was it only last night we sat with aching bellies and jaws?_

He was so tired, both in body and soul.

The tests continued through the rest of the morning and afternoon; spells flew as they tried cure after cure to reduce the raging fever, which still resisted their efforts. The convulsions finally stopped, though, and Harry was grateful Severus no longer endured them.

It was so strange experiencing this only through his own senses. He'd forgot just how lonely and empty one person could be. Not having Severus in his head making his usual snide comments or bestowing his loving caresses left him bereft. As he watched Seth try yet another spell, he wondered with a different perspective how his godson endured his own solitude with Lenore gone these past two years.

Ron and Hermione refused to leave him, and so the room was expanded to include more chairs and two extra beds in case anyone wanted to sleep. Every now and again, one or another would come over to touch Severus or offer Harry their support, which he gratefully accepted. He felt better with them around.

Shortly after sundown, a weary Remus and Arabella quietly joined them. With her customary calm, Arabella sat on the opposite side of the bed and, taking Severus' hand, gently brushed a silvered strand of hair away from his face where an errant breeze from the open window had stirred it.

_She's so strong,_ Harry thought as she kissed Severus on the forehead, murmuring words to him no one else could hear. Remus stood by her side, his arm around her shoulder, pulling her into his side.

Harry folded inside with pain as he witnessed the love flowing freely between them and closed his eyes against seeing them. It was almost more than he could bear with Severus lying there so separate from him. When he felt the bed move slightly, he opened his eyes and watched them walk quietly back to Ron and Hermione, where they conversed in hushed tones.

They gave Harry his privacy and didn't disturb him further for a while.

Long after Ron and Hermione retired to one of the comfortable double beds in the room, and Remus and Arabella had returned to their own chambers, Severus woke up.

Eyes burning with the fever, they roamed aimlessly over the ceiling with its stark whiteness. Confused, he cast about and saw Harry perched on the side of his bed, one lax hand laid over his. He smiled at the soft snores coming from the tousled head drooping against the slumped chest. Since Harry had become an early riser late in life, Severus allowed himself this rare opportunity to just watch him sleep. _When did he get so old? When did I get so old?_

He watched for quite a while, relishing the deep emotions he had for this man, his husband. Each passing day had entwined their love, their faith in each other, tangling them ever closer until he realised that Harry was a true extension of himself; one would never survive the ending of the other. _Now what brought that to mind? Am I near the end?_

He moved his hand slightly and Harry jerked awake. Dark eyes enchanted green once again, but the words were never spoken.

_You look like hell, love._ Severus thought at him, his hand entwining with Harry's. _Why am I here?_

With sick relief at finally _hearing_ Severus, Harry replied, _You're ill. Can't you feel it?_

_No. No, not really. I feel rather light. I feel no pain. I am cold though. So cold. Have you any blankets?_

_You silly old man, we've those and fever spells on you; any more and you'll suffocate._

_Oh, that's all right, then. I'm still cold, though. I've had the strangest dream. One of war. Most unpleasant. Has there been a battle?_

Startled, Harry thought a moment before cautiously replying, _No, only the war being waged right now is inside you. Do you know what might have made you so sick? Was it bad food, or poison, or anything like that?_

_I didn't know I was. Stupid boy! You still don't listen... never did. I've already told you that. Told the Headmaster your inattentiveness would get us into trouble some day. Got us into trouble it did, too. Poison? No, I don't think so. I've not worried about that in years._

Harry saw panic set in Severus' eyes. _Harry, I can't move anymore. Why can't I move?_ Severus' hand twitched in his.

_You are. See, your hand just moved._

Real panic. _Why can't I feel it? Why can't I feel you anymore? Oh gods, Harry, make me feel you._

Harry bent down and placed a tender, lingering kiss on Severus' lips. _Better?_ he asked.

_No._ Severus' eyes widened. _Harry, what's happening? Why can't I... feel you? I don't feel... real anymore. Why don't I feel real?_ Severus was gasping, his breathing shallow, his wild, panicked eyes fixed on Harry's face.

At a loss, Harry looked over at Ron and Hermione, who were half-out of their bed. With a shake of his head and a wave of his left hand at them, he stayed their approach with a glance. Unhappy but resigned, they complied, sitting back in their bed. As he returned his hand to the bed, he felt a burning pain in his fingers. Studying the ring on his left hand, he saw it glow for a moment before it resumed its normal ornate appearance.

He flashed to their apparent defeat of Voldemort. He and Severus... sitting against the parapet... rings touching... minds and powers melding as they'd attacked the false Dark Lord. Years later... Severus holding him... mating the rings... his life's energy returning to his aching limbs after setting the wards.

_Would it work again, would the rings make a difference? I should have thought of this before!_ Standing from his side of the bed, Harry turned and, perching on the edge facing the foot, he reached over Severus and placed his left palm over Severus' left hand, fitting them together. Fingers entwined, he touched the rings together.

A surge of power flowed out of him into Severus, the energy tingling through their hands. As the exchange deepened, he felt light-headed and euphoric. He glanced back at Severus, whose eyes were closed in the manner Harry was more accustomed seeing when he concentrated before casting a spell or brewing a complicated potion. Severus' eyes opened and locked, black to green, the panic ebbing from his face until all that remained was his normal calm.

The flow stopped abruptly. Harry hesitantly removed his hand from Severus' and, when nothing untoward happened, he rose and repositioned himself at his side, facing him. With a will of its own, his one hand dropped softly onto Severus' forehead, gently brushing the strands of hair off of his face. His other trailed across his chest to settle on the other side, providing a convenient prop. Severus weakly lifted a hand to this arm and laid it along the front of Harry's under the sleeve of his robes, his hot hand lightly stroking the warm skin it found near the inside of his elbow.

His skin stippling with Severus' light touch, Harry shivered as he always did when Severus paid attention to his more sensitive spots. Without thought, he leaned in and firmly kissed Severus, his tongue lending moisture to his heated mouth, his lips capturing Severus' bottom one as he pulled away. Severus sighed deeply on a low rumble.

Harry smiled at the gravelly sound; he loved reducing Severus to gasps and groans. _Better now?_

_Much better. I can feel that... Very nice. And I'm warmer. Thank you. Was so cold... I'm so tired... Just want to sleep._ His eyes slowly drooped closed.

Panic, now from Harry. _Severus, you're not leaving me are you?_

Softly, faintly, _No, I am here._

_You are here,_ Harry rejoined.

_We are together,_ Severus finished. _I will never leave you. I can't leave you. I promise._ As his eyes closed, the arm-stroking stopped and his hand fell away from Harry's arm, leaving a disagreeable cooling spot on Harry's skin.

_Severus? Severus!_ Severus' body grew lax. _"Severus!"_ Harry cried softly. There was no reply, but their still-entwined hands gave Harry his first breath of hope. _Severus will never leave me. He promised. And he is an honourable man._

After reassuring Ron and Hermione that everything was as well as could be and explaining what had just happened, he eventually fell into a light sleep still sitting on the bed, never realising that while he'd _talked_ to Severus, they'd still been _separate_.

Near midnight, after conferring with Medi-folk from all over the world, Seth approached the bed. Shoulders slumping in defeat, he touched Harry's arm, and when he raised his head to blearily stare up at him, Seth almost lost his resolve when haunted green eyes locked with his. Taking a deep breath to steady him, he said with sorrow, "I am so sorry, Harry. There is nothing more we can do."

Harry held his gaze, reading his very soul it seemed and said softly, "I know Seth. Thank you for everything you've done. I know you did your best." He turned back to the unmoving figure on the bed.

Seth stared at him for a long moment, his heart heavy, for he dearly loved Severus and Harry; they'd been so much a part of his life, the bonds between their families unshakeable. He placed his hand comfortingly on Harry's shoulder. Harry's free hand covered his for a few moments and patted it before returning to the other hand on the bed.

Quietly slipping to the far corner of the room, Seth took a chair by his parents, who were both sitting on the side of their bed. His mother leaned over and kissed his cheek, his father took his hand, both silently reaffirming their love for him. He took small comfort in their affection and wished for the thousandth time that he'd been able to do something, feeling much as he had when Lenore had finally faded from him. He sat there for a few minutes and then, thinking of something he _could_ do, he left the infirmary to tell Remus and Arabella in person. It would not be long now and he was certain they would want to be there.

Their five friends kept vigil with Harry. Eyes and faces wet with the tears they sporadically shed, they sadly watched Harry try to bring Severus back. Desperate futility marked his movements, the soft murmured words, the silent regard and attention he gave his husband almost more than they could bear. Severus never moved, never spoke, his body weakening with every passing moment. Every now and again, one of them would go to Harry and touch him, trying to tell him with unspoken gestures that they were there, that they wanted Severus back too.

Seth especially knew Harry's pain, his own loss still raw even after two years. And he knew, from long experience, the pointlessness of keeping someone when their time had come, even if it wasn't _when_ one wanted.

Over the course of the following hours, Harry held Severus' hand, which was still entwined with his. He lovingly brushed the hair back off his high forehead still ablaze with fever and frequently trailed his fingertips across burning lips. He would cup the high cheekbones and lean in to kiss the stern brow, feather his lips with light kisses, and hold his own cool cheek next to Severus' hot one.

He could feel Severus and his hope slipping away from him, each hour making the part of him that Harry loved smaller and smaller until the last hour, there wasn't much of him left. Unable to stand it any longer and without thought of those around him, Harry quietly climbed into the bed next to Severus. Insinuating himself against his side, he laid his head on Severus' fevered shoulder, his arm wrapped tight around his burning waist. He measured the passage of time by the slowing beats of Severus' heart.

Harry was only marginally aware of Ron and Hermione sitting next to him, stroking his back, their hands touching him, giving him all the love they possessed. He barely felt Remus' hand on his head, caressing the silver strands away from his face. He only sensed Seth at the foot of the bed giving him support with his grieving eyes and his stalwart presence.

Just before dawn, Harry tried aligning the rings once more. Unlike his previous tries throughout the long night, he felt a tiny surge of power and Severus turned his head, his eyes opening and staring straight into Harry's. Dark eyes pleaded with green ones to understand.

_I love you,_ softly entered his head.

Choking on unshed tears, Harry whispered, _I know. I love you back._

Severus closed his eyes, at peace. Softly, so softly Harry had to lean in to hear him, he breathed, "Insolent brat," a small smile on his lips. And then he breathed no more.

The power of the rings was spent.

Harry's heart ripped asunder. _No... No... This can't be?_ But it was. _SEVERUS!_ The cry tore through his mind, finding no response. _Severus, No! Come Back Right Now!_ There was still no answer and Harry fought the empty realisation that there never would be.

"NO! Severus! No. Come back." Shudders ran through his body as the message warped through it that the other half of his soul was truly gone. He clutched at Severus' body as if he would never let go. He shook off the hands trying to separate him from his Severus.

"Damn you, Severus! Don't leave me alone! You promised we'd always be together. Why? Oh gods, why?" he cried hitting the bed with his fist, head buried in Severus' still warm chest. The hands were trying to pull him away again and he resisted with every fibre of his being.

Ron and Hermione, hearing the final death rattle, had stood on either side of Harry and for one moment they could feel the deep, searing emptiness threatening to engulf their friend. Tears streaming down their faces, they gently tried to untangle Harry from Severus on the bed. Standing off to the side to give them some privacy, Seth stepped forward to help and after quite a fight, the three men got Harry standing up at the side of the bed.

Seth took one hard look at the hollow, wild-eyed man in front of him before instantly coming to the decision to sedate him. Walking to a nearby shelf, he pulled down a potion and, turning back to Remus and Ron, softly said, "Hold him firmly for a moment."

As they tightened their grip on Harry's arms and shoulders, Seth pulled his wand and incanted, _"Sopophorus Unus."_ Harry's eyes glazed and he lightly sagged against their support.

"Let's get him to the other bed," he directed, pointing at the one in the far corner, surprised the spell had less effect than it should. "We could just levitate him, I suppose, but it will go better for him if he can make it there under his own power."

Gently they steered the now unresisting Harry to the other bed. They sat him on its edge, and Seth knelt in front of him, taking his hands.

"Harry, can you hear me?" He was answered by a small nod. "Harry, I'm so sorry, please let me help you forget for a little while." Again another nod. _Thank Merlin,_ Seth thought, grateful he wouldn't have to fight Harry to take the potion.

"All right, Harry, I want you to drink this potion for me; it will help you." Harry shook his head.

This did not bode well. Trying a different, more dangerous tack, he said, "Harry, Severus has made a potion for you to stop the hurting. Please take it."

Harry lifted his head, and with anguished eyes, grabbed the potion out of Seth's hands, drinking the acrid liquid down in one gulp. "There. I hope he's satisfied," he said bitterly, sagging forward as the potion worked its magic.

Seth and Ron eased his limp body flat on the bed and covered him with a soft blanket. Ron stared at his dearest friend for a long moment. He leaned down and brushed the hair off his forehead exposing the faint remnants of the scar Harry had borne all these years. Leaning in a little further, he gently kissed him on the forehead. He straightened slowly, his back protesting the motion. Tears streaming from his eyes, he watched Hermione do the same and when she finished they turned to Seth and held each other tightly for a long, long time.

The next day they made all the arrangements with direction from Harry during the few lucid moments they allowed him. It wasn't that they wanted to keep him sedated, but each time he awoke from the potions, his eyes dull and lifeless, he would be clear for an hour or so before dissolving into his mind, a mind where Severus was still alive. It tore their hearts to see him wasting away before their eyes, talking like an old man to the thin air as if Severus was right there beside him. And each time he reached the point he could bear it no more, Seth inevitably administered another potion, even knowing each dose weakened Harry further.

TBC


	12. Part Of Me Is Fighting This, But Part Of

**Bring Me To Life : A Continuation**  
by I Got Tired of Waiting

**Part II : Dearly Departed**  
**Intermission Five : Part Of Me Is Fighting This, But Part Of Me Is Gone**

_WAKE UP._

He opened his eyes blearily. He was lying in a comfortable bed, but judging from the light level, it wasn't his room. It was too bright. Much too bright. He closed his eyes in discomfort wondering briefly why he was there, why he wasn't in his quarters. Noises from outside the room gave him his first clue; he was in the infirmary.

His head hurt. For the life of him, he couldn't remember why he was here, or why he felt so fuzzy, almost drugged, his dry, cottony mouth tasting like copper. Rummaging around in his memory, he drew a big zero. No, he didn't remember why he was here.

Or why he was awake for that matter. He was supposed to be sleeping, that much he knew. But something had awakened him. Or someone. He shrugged; he couldn't remember.

_GET OUT OF BED._

All right. He slipped out of the bed, stood and looked around. He was alone. For some reason that was significant, but... He smiled; it was becoming a mantra. He couldn't remember. Deciding that not remembering didn't bother him all that much, he made his slow way to the door.

_NOT THAT WAY. THE OTHER WAY._

Why not that way? He didn't know, but it seemed important.

_THEY'LL WORRY IF YOU'RE GONE._

What? Oh, he'd need an effigy. Staring at the bed, he muttered a spell and there he was in the bed. Only it wasn't him, it was--him--or at least looked like him--in the bed. Somehow this was important, too.

_USE THE FIREPLACE._

Oh, what a good idea. He wouldn't have to use the door, then. Walking to the fireplace, he grabbed a handful of the powder and tossed it into the fire burning in the grate. "Harry's Work Room," he said, stepping into the green flames.

Who's Harry?

The grates whizzed by, making him dizzy and, when they finally stopped flashing, he stumbled out into a study. A very tidy study. It somehow didn't feel right; it shouldn't be this neat. The room felt empty, scrubbed clean of the person who'd spent nearly twenty years of his working life here.

There was a huge work table in the centre, cleared of any current work, a large circle embedded in the top. A tall cabinet to the side had closed doors and there were several bookcases, empty, along the other wall.

_MAKE OUR REMEMBRANCE._

Our? Who was us? Oh, well. He guessed he'd find that out when he made it. Whatever _it_ was.

_USE THE FILMS._

All right, he could do that. He went to the press on the wall to his right and, muttering a key spell, he opened the doors and saw hundreds of slender wooden boxes like books, each containing films he'd made over the years. It didn't bother him at all that they were still there; he didn't know it had been done on purpose, the memories contained therein a living record, a legacy left by the former occupant who no longer needed or wanted them.

Which one? His hands touched the spines of the first four rows. On the fifth, he found one that felt right. He took it out and placed it on the table.

_GET THE BOOK._

Book, what book? There was no book in here.

He walked from the workroom to another beyond and found himself in an elegant room, the furniture old but lovingly maintained. Dark vibrant rugs were scattered about the floor, some Persian, one of soft tufted silk in front of the unlit fireplace. He shivered in the room's cold, feeling its emptiness as if it were unused for quite some time, its occupants long gone.

Next to the ancient couch facing the fireplace was a table. On it were two snifters and a half-empty decanter of brandy. The sight made him uneasy for a moment, like he was a trespasser and the owners of the room were going to be home soon. Between the couch and the other love seat sitting at right angles to it, he spied another table with a pile of brown paper. Drawn to it, he saw that there was heavy, leather-bound book in the middle of the wrappings. Old by the look of it, too. He picked it up, taking it back to his table in the other room.

_MAKE IT NOW, YOU'VE NOT MUCH TIME._

He took the slim film out of its case. Muttering the activation spell, it unfolded and levitated in the air before his eyes, flat like a piece of paper on a desk. Its contents began to cycle, the three-dimensional images, viewed in miniature, sprang from its flat surface. Watching the action, he didn't know who the three people were, but he admired their skill; it was quite beautiful to behold.

Then the film finished, leaving a dormant platform in front of him awaiting his pleasure. He left it there, hanging in the air.

He opened the book he'd brought and flipped through the pictures. He wished he could remember who all the people were, but there were some provocative photos of two really...

_YOU DO NOT HAVE THE TIME TO BE DISTRACTED. MAKE THE MEMORIES._

Distracted? By what? The photos? He wasn't distracted; he just liked them. Especially the last one. He must definitely use it. Perhaps at the end? Giving it some thought and drawing on knowledge he didn't consciously remember, he began to weave a spell which would allow him to merge the film he'd made with the photos.

As he worked, he vaguely remembered he was the one who'd perfected the technique of the moving pictures, not flat Wizarding photos, but real cinema... like he'd seen as a child, only solid somehow. He barely recalled how he'd learned to capture his memories and the memories of others in the films, not just the events themselves, but also a way to include himself in them as if viewed by a third party; it had been fairly easy to do once he'd learned how to view himself dispassionately through the eyes of another.

The film was just another form of the Pensieve... an amusement to while the time as he waited. He didn't need the copious notes he'd left, nor the instructions he'd left on every box to do what he'd been asked. First the picture, then the action, then the memories... weave them all together. Time after time he repeated this litany as one by one, the photos were added, augmented by his memories. After an indeterminate time, he stepped back from his work, satisfied.

He took the resultant film and, casting one last spell, it transformed until it looked like an ordinary rolled parchment scroll. He sealed the free edge to the body with the glyph of a long snarling snake, its open mouth exposing wicked fangs, wrapped around the muscular body of a roaring lion crouched ready to spring, its bared teeth snapping. The two glaring faces touched and faced outward--the snake on top, the lion's underneath--as if readying to fight an unseen enemy.

It's done. Now what?

_TAKE IT TO THE OFFICE._

Oh. He took the roll of parchment and went back into the elegant living room and, passing through it, he entered another room through an ornate door that wasn't there if you weren't looking for it. Only one other person had access to it.

The huge room didn't feel right, although he couldn't say why. Perhaps something missing? He shrugged. It was unimportant.

Walking past the empty shelves, hundreds of shelves, all once carrying... books, there used to be thousands of books here... he wondered why they'd all disappeared. Past the lone writing desk in the centre, right up to the fireplace along one wall, two battered wing chairs with waiting poufs were comfortably arranged to receive the weary bodies of the two who used this room more than any other. Like the living room, it was cold, the fire unlit. He shivered at the eerie feeling of the room.

The hearth. That was where he was going. Inlaid into the deep stone hearth, just past the poufs, was a circle of lighter stone just large enough for his feet. He stepped into the circle facing the room and could feel the tingle of the magic contained within. The entire room was visible from where he stood, all the recesses, all the nooks and crannies; there'd been a reason for that, but he couldn't recall what it was. He just knew he had to leave--soon.

Visualising where he wanted to go, he disappeared from the room--

--and entered another with trinkets and magical devices cluttered everywhere. An Orrery. Made of precious metals and stones, its huge sun glowed in the candlelight. And a desk. Large and imposing... entwined snakes ran up the sides of the legs, turning to form the apron running around all four sides.

There was a man at the desk, his back to him. His lean frame was bent over some task, something he was writing, the quill coming back at regular intervals to dip into the ink. He stopped for a moment and rubbed the back of his neck, then resumed his writing. His wavy red hair, peppered with grey, sported a small balding spot in the back. The traditional robes he wore were a deep blue edged in green. Bright robes. The wrong robes.

The wrong man; he shouldn't be here, but Harry couldn't bring himself to find out who he was. Instead, he silently turned in place and spied the old credenza off to the side, its inlaid top the only empty thing in the room. That was wrong, too. It should be piled with rolls of parchment.

_LEAVE IT WHERE HE'LL FIND IT._

Who will find it? The man at the desk?

Noiselessly, he glided to the credenza and placed the parchment carefully down on the empty top. It looked lonely. He gazed longingly at it before turning back to enter the circle on the floor he'd just left. He felt like he was leaving something important behind, and for a second he hesitated, wanting to snatch it back.

_GO BACK TO BED. YOUR TASK IS FINISHED._

Sighing deeply, he visualised where he needed to be and disappeared from the room--

--and was back in the infirmary, back at the fireplace he'd left hours before. He saw himself sleeping peacefully and, with a sweep of his hand, the effigy disappeared. Hearing voices approach the room, he climbed back into the bed and pulled the covers over him. Swimming in the vortex pulling him down, he resumed his drugged sleep as if he'd never been away.

Colin sat at the desk in the headmaster's office, feeling very uncomfortable. For one, the chair was wrong. It had been made for a different man whose very essence was buried in the seat almost as much as the imprint left by his buttocks. He'd expected difficulties filling Severus' 'shoes', but this...?

The second was the desk itself. While he admired the style, finding the Slytherin snakes clever and appropriate, the shallow groove worn into the top from over a century of the same man writing here at the same place was wrong for the way he wrote, the angle lower. Severus had obviously been left-handed like him, but wrote with his hand on the bottom, not at the top of the lettering the way Colin did. It was very different and his arm kept sliding into the groove every time he reached the end of a line.

Of course, he could fix all these things with a simple spell, but he couldn't bring himself to do it. It wouldn't be right somehow. So he left it as it was and coped. He was good at coping.

And he needed to finish this. There wasn't much time left till he would need to use it; he wanted it done and in his head before he was called upon to recite the words he was forming on the parchment. There would be time enough, after everything was all said and done, for him to remove the all furniture and replace it with his own.

Remove everything, the clutter of the years, all of it to be turned over to Remus, the historian. Harry had already made it clear in one moment of lucidity that he didn't want anything from this room, that it rightly belonged to the community and that Colin was welcome to take what he wanted and give the rest to Remus for safekeeping. Colin certainly didn't want the reminders around, the things so personal, he would be almost glad to remove the detritus of another lifetime.

Colin glanced up at the Orrery, glittering in the candlelight, silent for now. _Except that. That I keep. It has always been here for as long as anyone can remember._ The legacy of the headmasters before him and filled with the wisdom of his predecessors, its accuracy approached uncanny. Woven into the power of the Earth Stone itself by Severus, it presented an intimidating inheritance.

Shaking off the odd sense of time, Colin resumed writing the Memorial Service speech he was expected to make when a soft waft of cold air brushed gently across the back of his neck. He straightened from his task, rubbing the stiffness away; he didn't look behind him.

_Draughty old castle,_ he thought, _I must get the house-elves up here to seal the cracks._

Strangely uneasy, he went back to his task. After writing a few more lines, his arm sliding into the groove with each one, he heard a deep, lonely sigh and then another breath of cold air on his neck. Springing from the chair and whirling around, he confronted--

--nothing. For an infinitesimal instant, he'd thought he'd seen someone, the ghostly image of a lone person. No one was there. He shook off the frisson of otherworldliness, shaking his head at his fancies. _Stupid castle really had me going there for a minute. Must be one of the ghosts, maybe Peeves._

As he was about to return to the desk, almost convinced he'd imagined it, he found his attention drawn to the credenza behind the desk sporting a lone roll of parchment. _Where the hell did that come from?_ he asked himself, knowing he'd personally cleared it of the mounds of Severus' papers and notes; they now resided in his private study awaiting his leisure to read them. Thinking of the last few minutes, he startled, realising someone _had_ been in the room; he'd not been imagining things. More curious than alarmed, he closed the distance to the credenza and examined the parchment closely without touching it.

The glyph in the seal rocked him a bit. He'd never seen it before, but it was clear who it belonged to--Severus and Harry. _Harry has been here, how I don't know, but... here it is._ Picking it up, he closely examined the seal, the fierceness of the snake and lion speaking volumes to him about the nature of the men it represented. _This must be their private seal, their bond seal, the seal of their power._ He'd never seen it before.

What shook him wasn't the intimacy of the glyph; he'd seen others far more graphic, but _their_ seal was almost identical to his and Dana's. While Severus and Harry's avatars were crouching and looking forward, statant, his and Dana's was regardant; her snarling lion seated on its haunches looked over its shoulder, his hissing snake, ready to strike, entwined sinuously around the lion's body. The serpent's head, resting on the mighty leonine shoulder, looked in the same direction, ready to do battle with some unseen enemy.

Floored, he understood.

_Theirs--looking forward and building their future, the two of them fiercely created a legacy by facing and vanquishing their enemies. Ours--looking back at what was past built, we watch our backs, protecting and nurturing the legacy we've received from theirs. Gods, how fitting. How did they foresee this as well? How did they know what we would be? How did we?_

His eyes travelled back to the Orrery in awe. He remembered when they'd created their seal, pouring their bond into it, mystified as to why the final form _felt_ so right even though it wasn't something they willingly chose.

He started to put the dormant parchment back down, willing himself to look at it another time--he had so much work to finish--when the words opposite the seal caught his eye.

_For Remus and Arabella Lupin and Their Designated Heirs:  
Our Memories  
To open, break the seal by means of Aperio.  
To close, repair the seal by means of Signum._

Their Last Statement.

Colin's hands shook with the leashed power the scroll contained within. It wasn't his to open and he hastily placed it back on the Credenza knowing he shouldn't touch it again.

Considering a moment, he turned back to the desk, his eye catching his own parchment waiting for him to finish. He knew it for a wasted effort, the words he needed were now cleanly burned into his mind, their essence expressed in a roll of parchment not his own.

Moving to the fireplace, he threw in a handful of the Floo powder, saying, "Remus Lupin." He waited a few moments for Remus to answer the compulsion, hoping he wasn't catching him at a bad time. Remus' head and shoulders appeared in the green fire.

"Hullo Colin, what can I--"

"Remus, at your _earliest_ convenience," Colin interrupted smoothly, "I need you to come to the headmaster's office. I have something of yours."

Remus eyed him a moment. "Certainly, Headmaster. I'm on my way."

Colin nodded and Remus' head disappeared, the fire once again burning brightly.

Returning to his desk, he picked up his parchment, balled it up in his fists and, with deadly accuracy, threw it into the flames.

TBC


	13. Only You Are the Life Among the Dead

**Bring Me To Life : A Continuation**  
by I Got Tired of Waiting

**Part II : Dearly Departed**  
**Only You Are the Life Among the Dead**

The following day, they left the castle to bury Severus in a grove of willows on the far side of the lake near the Forbidden Forest. Eight pallbearers, eight male Prefects of all four Houses, accompanied his levitated casket to just outside the circle of willows.

Colin and Sinistra (who had come from his home in Italy) officiated the interment ceremony outside the grove, and the hundreds of folk who made up what Severus had called family, paid their last respects to the man who had made much of their life possible with his (and Harry's) defeat of Voldemort and their subsequent fight with the Muggles.

At the end of the ceremony, eight new Pall-bearers escorted the plain wooden casket, covered now in flowers, to the inside of the grove, the Prefects leaving with the rest of the Slytherins back to the castle. The people gone within afterwards, immediate family and close friends only, stood around the perimeter. They'd not disturbed the centre.

A secluded spot, the long arms of the willows ringing the space touched the ground making almost solid walls of swaying green around a clearing just large enough to hold the forty or so people standing respectfully for the final burial. If one looked up, the ring of trees raggedly framed the sullen sky.

A smaller, circular area in the centre had been raised and paved with small loose-fitting stones, the moss growing between the cracks overlapping until it formed a feather-soft, unbroken carpet of verdant green. Flat rocks, joined at their edges, ringed this bower, their clean smooth surfaces waiting silently for the bottles of wine and baskets of food, or the candles to softly light the books brought out here to read together but eventually set aside for other pursuits.

This place had been their favourite rendezvous to escape the rigours of the school, a place where they could be private, hidden from the prying eyes of the students and townsfolk. By mutual agreement of the staff, who were completely devoted to them both, the area was declared out-of-bounds to all but Harry and Severus. And surprisingly, through all the years of student high-jinks and public censure of their relationship, no one had ever defiled their sanctuary.

This was the first time all but four had been here.

Assailed by the memories, Ron, Hermione, and Seth remembered fondly the many times they'd been invited to late afternoon picnics here with Severus, Harry, and Lenore. They'd each enjoyed its solitude for their private pleasures as well. Intimately they knew the bower's softness, the feel of its moist downy surface on bare skin, the clean, earthy smell of moss filling their senses as the warm sunlight dappled tangled bodies.

Ron and Hermione never returned after Draco died as Ron adamantly refused to face the memories and Hermione didn't have the strength to return alone. At this moment, gripping Ron's hand, she wasn't certain which was sadder: the memories of those lost times, or the sight of the gaping hole with its almost obscene mound of earth nearby, waiting to fill and seal the new grave.

Next to it lay another grave, its small marker not the only thing left to remind them of Lenore. Hermione was saddened to see Seth standing near it, his face filled with empty anguish. The little grave was covered in flowers. Hermione knew Seth returned here almost every day to talk to his wife and had the feeling he would add Severus to those conversations as well. While it wasn't something she could do, he drew comfort from it and that was all she could hope from it.

She knew Severus and Harry had never returned here after Lenore had died, their pleasure in the place spoiled by her lost presence, but they could think of no more fitting place to leave her; she'd enjoyed the pleasures of the bower as much as they. As a child during their family outings, she'd been free to boisterously play without the restraints of castle etiquette. As an adult, she'd been free to loose her passions in the full light of the sun, loving Seth with a wild abandon she couldn't display elsewhere.

Hermione understood this completely.

The silence within the intimate space was total, the murmuring voices of the throng of people outside its confines unheard as they slowly left for home. They would not soon forget the simple ceremony. As Colin had so eloquently stated, it was the beginning of a new era and the end of an another.

Severus was brought to the grove for the last time in the mid-morning, the clouds shadowing the sun. While Harry seemed indifferent, Ron had insisted, knowing it would be the least painful time as they'd rarely come here alone in the daytime; those jaunts has been reserved solely for family and friends.

Out of respect for Harry's fragile state, they'd quietly decided before the ceremony to allow only the immediate family to directly approach him. While the majority of the people stayed well back, Harry stood numb by the open grave, passively accepting their condolences as one by one they embraced him, trying desperately to remove the aching sorrow from his much-loved face and bring some spark back to his dull, lifeless eyes.

All too soon, the casket was lowered into the grave, the token handfuls of dirt thrown in. It was time to go.

Severus and Lenore were home and Harry was alone.

TBC


	14. Save Me From The Nothing I've Become

**Bring Me To Life : A Continuation**  
by I Got Tired of Waiting

**Part II : Dearly Departed**  
**Save Me From The Nothing I've Become**

They returned to the castle. Walking up the steps had never been so hard, each step taking him further away from Severus.

_Severus!_

Still on either side of him, Ron and Hermione helped him into the main entry. Harry stopped and straightened when he saw what awaited them. Stretching from the front door and far into the distance to the stairway and beyond, stood the students lined up single file on both sides of the corridor, forming an honour guard to see Harry home.

With faces much too young to be bearing such sorrow, their tears flowed unchecked, except for the Slytherins, who were the first House represented. The aggrieved eyes in sober faces paid tribute to his now-silent grief, their straight and proud stance a fitting testimony to the headmaster and former Head of House they'd lost. Almost as one, they turned their heads towards him and, in the finest Slytherin tradition, they bowed.

Harry checked his steps and hesitated, about to say something, when he heard Severus' voice in his head. _Don't tarnish our traditions with mere words. You know what to do._

So he nodded and stayed silent, meeting each one's steady gaze with one of his own as he passed them. When he reached the end, he turned and faced their former Heads of House, Sinistra and Colin. With Severus' memories of the ritual filling his head, he held their sad eyes with his and deeply bowed to them. Turning with precision to survey Severus' Slytherins, their eyes gleaming with unshed tears, he let one tear fall unchecked and, running his eyes down the long lines, he bowed once, turned on his heel, and never looked back.

He would not disgrace their now free-falling tears by witnessing them.

The Ravenclaws were quickly followed by the Hufflepuffs. As he'd done with the Slytherins, he looked each one in the eye as he passed; so many of them he knew by name. Both groups were crying silently as well, their gaze following his slow progress up the hall and beyond.

At the stairs, he encountered his own beloved Gryffindors. He slowly made his way up, step by step, stopping to acknowledge each and every one of them, knowing them all by name as their Head of their House. Each nod, each heartfelt glance, the occasional touch, especially to the little ones and his Prefects, told them how much he cherished them. And in return, they each touched hands to head and heart and bowed their heads; it was all he could do not to break down in front of them, but found comfort in their gesture.

Passing the last of the students, he'd only the Head Boy and Head Girl to greet.

He stopped before them as they guarded the entrance to his quarters and, with a rare show of raw emotion, he swept both of them into an embrace, catching their tears in his robes. They were his, the only two he still taught; their support meant as much to him as any of his friends.

Both were progeny of The Trio's union. Altus and Althea, twins in the finest Weasley tradition. Their godchildren, the twins were a near-perfect amalgam of their heritage. With flaming red hair--and temper to match--Altus stood tall, his piercing grey eyes could see straight into one's soul. With her fine white hair so much like Draco's, Althea's blazing blue eyes hid a keen intellect... and power--wild, raw power almost equal to Harry's; together, they were unstoppable. They'd kept him young as he'd taught them the control they'd need to fulfil their destiny.

For they were the chosen heirs, their training received at his and Severus' hands since they were infants. Altus, the Slytherin and Althea, the Gryffindor, they would assume Hogwarts after Colin and Dana. Not exactly a dynasty, rather a long-term plan for succession finally bearing fruit.

Today, however, they were merely two teenagers mourning the loss of someone as close as a father, a man who'd shared not only his knowledge but his affection. Gently releasing them, Harry's blurred eyes told them silently how much he cared. Standing straight and proud, they leant over and kissed his cheek. With choked emotion, they returned to either side of the door; they would keep him safe.

Turning, he stepped into their quarters. Memories overwhelmed him, and he would have fallen had not Remus and Ron caught him.

Hermione closed the door firmly behind them after a quick word and a hug with her great-grandchildren. Motioning to Seth standing nearby, she murmured, "He can't stay here, you know. He needs to be somewhere else, somewhere without all the memories."

"Where can we take him, Mum?" Seth replied. "Is there _any_ place in all of Hogwarts that won't bring back memories?"

"No, I suppose you're right. But damn it, he can't stay here!" She pointed to Harry on his knees, his body shaking. Remus and Ron stood helpless, uncertain what they should do. Arabella knelt in front of Harry and wrapped her arms around his shoulders, her lips near his ear as she whispered softly to him.

"Let's get him to the infirmary," Seth said hoarsely. "At least there I've potions to ease his distress. Perhaps then we can decide how best to help him."

Sitting off to the side of the infirmary's private room, Dana watched Colin with weary amusement as she wondered if he would wear a rut in the floor with his pacing. Back and forth he traversed the small room, his heavy steps a clear indicator of an inner turmoil, one she could well understand as it matched her own.

Something was amiss, what she couldn't say, but she knew deep inside her it wasn't supposed to be this way, so _silent_. When they'd transferred the wards, the castle's noisy intrusion had proved an unwelcome distraction until she'd settled it in her own mind. But this morning after the funeral, when the last clod of earth had splattered across the top of Severus' casket, the castle's inner voice had suddenly ceased, leaving a gaping void where once had been an almost cheerful chatter.

Confounded by the castle's sudden silence, it was no wonder he was confused. And she knew confusion irritated her husband. His was an ordered world and the unexpected never sat well with him. He planned, not reacted; it was the Slytherin in him.

His long legs making short work of the distance, Colin waited impatiently for them to arrive. It was only logical they should come here; Harry, bless his soul, wouldn't do well in their rooms. Hell, _he_ wouldn't do well in their private quarters if this had happened to Dana, the memories would be too raw to bear alone. He quickly turned away from _that_ thought; life without her... He glanced in her direction, reassuring himself she was still there. Blue eyes to brown, she smiled at him in understanding.

Colin felt _very_ unprepared. He hated to be unprepared. There was supposed to have been a transfer of knowledge with the transfer of the Wards. They'd not received it. Severus was supposed to have filled in the gaps; Harry was in no position to do so. So Colin paced, his concern growing with each step. And waited. And paced.

Dana looked on with her habitual serenity. She was rarely bothered by the unknown as she'd found so much of it over the years, especially in the last few days. She wasn't inclined to worry about things over which she had no control. She faced what she faced when she faced it. She reacted, not planned; it was the Gryffindor in her.

They were perfect foils to each other.

He whirled around at the sound of people flooing out of the fireplace, his long robes following him in a swirl he'd discovered Dana secretly admired. He stopped his pacing as Seth and Remus stepped off the hearth, a dazed Harry between them. _Gods, he looks awful, so old. He never looked this old, this used-up before,_ he thought and then berated himself the same way Dana would have, had he been foolish enough to say it out loud, for being such an unfeeling git.

They walked Harry slowly to the bed. He stumbled; Seth caught him fast, his arm around Harry's shoulders as he gently guided the frail frame to the edge of the mattress. Leaning into the touch, Harry murmured, "So cold. So very cold. Can't we have a fire in here? Severus, why is it so damn cold in here? What did you do to piss it off? Did the castle move us back in the dungeons or maybe the roof?"

Ron and Hermione chuckled with the memory of the incident right after he'd been made Headmaster, when Severus' things had been moved to the roof by the annoyed castle; the others, having no knowledge of it, stared at Harry as if he were a madman.

Seth swiftly grabbed the sleeping potion off the shelf near the bed. After removing the cork, he gently gave it to Harry, who downed it unseeing, purely by habit. In taking the bottle back from Harry, Seth's hand grazed his and the _feel_ of Harry's hand triggered his healing senses. With a sharp exclamation, he dropped the bottle on the floor and, gently coaxing Harry flat on the bed, began to examine the limp form, his senses fully extended.

With each pass of his hands, his face grew grimmer. He muttered a few testing spells and with the results they revealed, he hung his head. Taking Harry's hot hand briefly, he patted it before placing it back on the bed and steeled himself to face the questioning faces behind him.

Alarmed, the others watched tensely until he finished. He turned concerned eyes to them and dropped his shoulders with a heavy sigh. In an instant they all knew what was wrong; Harry had the fever. Upset with fresh grief, the seven friends settled in for another vigil.

o0o

_Harry stood in a grassy meadow. 'No, more like an estate lawn,' he thought, awed by the wide expanse of smooth green, its gentle hills unbroken to the horizon. Against the deep blue of a cloudless sky, a figure rapidly approached him._

_Excitement coursed through his veins at the sight of the black billowing robes, the loose measured steps, the purposeful flow of a familiar body gracefully making its way to him. Only to him. Closer and closer he drew, the swelling robes and Severus' fluid black hair flying with every step sent shivers of desire through him. His eyes fixed on his husband, he found himself unable to move._

_Black hair? He looked closely and saw that Severus was young, as young as when they'd first joined. Staring at his own hands, he saw the blue-veined crepey skin of his old age and, in that moment, sadly realised this was only a dream._

_"Well, not entirely a dream," Severus said, standing before him. "Welcome to the outskirts of the Hinterlands."_

_"You're real?" Harry asked, stunned._

_"Well, no, not really. Yet. Consider this a type of 'Limbo', I believe the Muggle theists call it."_

_Harry reached out a hand to caress Severus' face, mystified as to why he'd made no move before this to touch him. His hand passed right through and out the other side. He quickly pulled back, staring at it. Oddly disjointed, his frustration bordered on anger._

_His gaze longing, Severus said gently, "And that's why I didn't even try." His eyes brimming, he added, "Albus warned me this would happen, he just forgot to mention how much it would hurt."_

_"Albus is here?" Harry asked._

_"Yes, His Twinkliness managed to make it this far, and he's still a right pain in the arse. Nothing changes here, just what we are, not who we are," he added cryptically._

_"Where is here?"_

_"I'll forgive you your lapse. I really should know better by now. Albus is still an ass and you're still inattentive. We're near the Hinterlands, surely someone taught you about that."_

_"Well, it's been mentioned, but it is only a legend. I mean no one ever comes back to sell their story to Witches Weekly." Surreal, this was definitely surreal._

_Severus chuckled. "Probably not a bad thing, adds spice to life wondering whether one is going to the Hinterlands or the Underworld, which by the way, really is a myth."_

_"So I'm dead?"_

_"Hmm. I am, but you're not quite. I do wish you'd pay attention. This is not the Hinterlands. Limbo? Ring any bells?"_

_"Yeah, yeah, I remember, but as a mere mortal, I tend to forget these things."_

_Severus threw his hands up into the air and with a joyful shout to the heavens cried, "Finally! Finally, he realises his proper place in the universe." He raised a brow. "Only took you a century or so."_

_With a derisive snort, Harry retorted, "Uh-huh, and who was it who told me one night to 'Stop--Stop, I'm only a man!'?"_

_"If memory serves, you were doing something one couldn't expect even the gods to tolerate for long," he said with hunger._

_Raising an eyebrow, Harry said, "So you hated it?"_

_"Even with eternal life, I'm not certain I would survive you doing that again," Severus rejoined, admitting defeat._

_"Speaking of everlasting life, why are we here?" Harry asked, puzzled._

_"Do you remember transferring the Wards to Colin and Dana?"_

_"Do I ever. For a while there, I didn't think we were going make it."_

_"Well, we didn't. Not completely, that is. And that's the problem."_

_"What!?"_

o0o

TBC


	15. The Castle Always Did Like You Better

**Bring Me To Life : A Continuation**  
by I Got Tired of Waiting

**Part II : Dearly Departed**  
**Intermission Six : The Castle Always Did Like You Better**

Contemplating the large inlaid stone circle in the centre of Severus' office, Harry experienced a keen sense of déjà vu. After Albus had died, they'd merely drawn a chalk circle on the floor. However, in subsequent years, as the wards had grown more volatile and complex, Harry had cast this permanent work-circle, which Severus had subsequently covered with the dark, soft Persian rugs he favoured. They'd cleared them and the furniture out of the room last night for this morning's work.

Harry had a vision of another time, when Minerva McGonagall, now long dead, three spell-sharing Aurors, Filius Flitwick, also long gone, and Severus had stood on the outer edge of the chalk circle with Harry in the middle as the focus; bit by bit they'd rebuilt Hogwarts' wards from the ground up. The day the wards had fallen from treachery within. The day Dumbledore had died with a dagger piercing his heart. The day Severus and Harry had finally defeated the Dark Lord.

Harry shook himself to the present. Unlike those bygone days, when the wards would respond to anyone with the proper keys, these modern wards responded only to them. Hopefully, that was about to change, for Severus and Harry--tired of their custodianship--wanted to transfer the Wards to Colin and Dana. Months of research and planning had gone into this day, this new ritual, and even though they were only moderately certain it would work, they were nonetheless determined to try.

This circle contained within it the leashed strength of the Draconus Ward bound to the Earth Stone. Standing at the edge, waiting for the others, a frisson of power ran up Harry's spine making the hairs stand at attention on his arms; near the centre it would grow stronger, more invasive. The keys in the transfer were the bindings: Castle to Earth Stone to Wards, Severus to Harry, and Colin to Dana. In one blind leap of faith, Severus and Harry were counting on Colin and Dana's binding, so similar to their own, to make the transfer succeed in a trade of equals. Whether the castle--or Colin--would cooperate remained to be seen.

While Colin had few objections to being the next headmaster, he was uneasy _they_ would have to assume control in the same manner Harry and Severus had, as a bonded couple. And therein lay his concern. He knew firsthand from his tenure as Deputy headmaster just how strong the Wards were and the thought of such power harming her... It was one thing for him to risk himself in the transfer of such unspeakable power, quite another to place his Dana in the same danger as well; that he could not protect her any more than he could himself sat sour in his stomach.

However, it was too late to change anything now; they were committed. Severus had been persuasive in his explanation and while he couldn't say they'd been coerced, Dana had turned unexpectedly sympathetic concerning their participation. It was times like these he almost wished he'd married a Gryffindor.

Harry observed the play of emotions across Colin's normally stoic face; that they appeared at all spoke volumes about his trepidation. Not that this would change _his_ or Severus' minds; it was past time to let it go. "Shall we get started? This is going to take a while," Harry said softly.

"Might as well," Severus said sourly. "Delaying won't make it any easier. You two remember what to do?"

Dana nodded in the quiet way she had. "Yes, Severus, we do."

Colin raised a brow. "Though, I admit the wandless magic still feels--uncomfortable." At Severus' matched expression he added, "I know, I know. It's necessary. How else can we make the transfer when both hands are required. Yet... how do we know this will work?"

Harry almost smiled at Severus' glare; Colin had asked this same question at every meeting and in return, received the same impatient non-answer; Harry could almost mouth the words that followed verbatim. "We don't, and if it doesn't, we pour as much power as we have into it and _make_ it happen. We built these wards; we can take them down and rebuild them one by one if we have to." Harry did smile then; Severus might say this with a measure of confidence, but he'd also hedged his bets. A thorough check of the Orrery had augured that this was the best day to do the transfer and the Muggles were auspiciously absent as well. Of course, the Aurors blanketing Hogsmeade and Hogwarts, just in case they failed, were purely an unnecessary precaution.

Holding out his hands in welcome, Harry intoned, "Let us begin," and ushered them into the stone circle.

Severus moved to the north position marked by a round stone, Colin to an identical mark to the south; Harry and Dana settled between them at the east and west, respectively. Arms outstretched, they joined hands and began chanting in an ancient tongue, "First to bridge the Gap, the Plinth."

A large stone square morphed from the floor. Several inches high, its four corners pointed at each of them like a compass. As it solidified, they continued. "Rising from the depths, the Pillar." A round stone column rose out of the stone Plinth until it was just below waist-height, its hollowed top wider than its shaft. With a loud click, felt rather than heard, its wide articulated base bonded with the Plinth.

"Closed with Sight, the Portal." A large globe of solid Mage-glass materialised out of thin air and floated above the column before it descended, merging with the concave top of the column. Colin and Dana shuddered, but remained in place. Harry sympathised; the power of the portal could be overwhelming, but under Severus' impeccable control, it presented no danger to them.

"The Plinth, the Pillar, and the Portal shall be sealed with the Signs of Power." From the column, wrapping around the globe, the symbols of the Four Houses of Hogwarts--the Badger, the Lion, the Eagle, and the Serpent--emerged and insinuated themselves into the base of the globe, anchoring it into place. The snake of Slytherin was the last to proceed and it rose, hissing at them, before entwining itself around the other symbols like a protective arm around a lover. Forming an Ouroboros when finished, it represented the essence of the Wards.

"Thus sealed shall the Serpent lead them to the seat of life." Harry had always liked this part as the globe began to glow, brighter and brighter until it steadied into a brilliant radiance, clearly outlining the symbolic ties that bound it. For the first time since they'd started, they separated hands.

Spread wide, Severus placed his hands flat on the Globe, saying, "From me comes the Headmaster... The Keeper of the Wards." The globe flashed a brilliant green.

Immediately following, Harry touched the globe with both hands, his fingers covering Severus' as he chanted, "From me comes the Wellspring, The Keeper of the Stone." The globe pulsed red.

With a sigh, Colin put his hands on the Globe, his fingers overlapping Harry's. "From me shall come the Headmaster... The future Keeper of the Wards." The globe sparkled silver.

As the last to go, Dana spread her hands to reach and cover both Severus and Colin's. "From me shall come the future Wellspring... The future Keeper of the Stone." The globe shimmered gold.

Together they incanted, "Four, the sign of stability, the houses of sanctuary. We are One and seek passage to our hearts."

The castle shuddered as their joined hands sank into the Mage-glass. Down, down, down, they descended to the very heart of Hogwarts, the Earth Stone. With a twist, the globe disappeared to be replaced by the Earth Stone itself. Housed in a rough cave, they shifted to accommodate the new position, their hands never leaving the plain ochre stone or each other's.

The castle roared!

Severus and Harry, their faces drenched in sudden sweat, wove the spell to facilitate the transfer. As the last syllable echoed in the small chamber, the surge of magic flowed through them to Colin and Dana in a steady stream. He could sense Dana as his control of the Wards slid smoothly from him to her, and he began to feel a modicum of hope that they just might be successful despite the odds.

But midway, the transfer slowed to a mere trickle; their spell was not enough.

Sensing Severus faltering, Harry concentrated and added more of his own power to the joining. He knew Colin and Dana could do nothing at this point to help them; they could only stand by helplessly and watch the two of them struggle with the castle.

The stone burned his hands. Instead of reflecting and transferring the power to Colin and Dana, it was acting like a sponge, draining Harry and Severus; something was wrong. The castle bucked and rumbled around them in angry discontent.

_Are you all right?_ Harry asked.

_I've been better. This obviously isn't working; we need to focus it better. Damn it, I'd hoped it wouldn't come to this._

Harry nodded his agreement, concentrating too hard to answer.

Their hands were still touching, overlapping each other on the stone. Severus nodded to Colin and, in a series of complicated manoeuvres of bodies and hands, the two men shifted their spouses until they stood behind them, arms wrapped protectively around their waists much like the serpent's attitude on the globe. Throughout their movements, Dana and Harry managed to transfer the contact for the four of them to their own right hands held tightly together at the top of the stone, the other hanging loose at their sides.

_Steady now--_ Severus' thoughts whispered as they fought to bring their talents to bear in one effort. Harry sagged back into Severus, his body an unsupportable, heavy weight as their combined power filled him.

_Quiet now, love--_ Colin thought to Dana as she leant into him, pressed close by the power pushing on her, eyes flying wide as his words rang in her head.

When all was secure, Harry and Dana lifted their left hands from their sides and placed them simultaneously--palm down, fingers splayed, on the stone in front of them, rings exposed and in full contact with the stone. They waited.

Severus and Colin removed their left hands from the waists of their bond-mates and held them out over the respective left hands waiting to receive them. This was the tricky part, the last resort they'd hoped to avoid. Watching Colin closely, Severus nodded once, and then as one they lowered their hands on top of the waiting hands of their lovers and mated the pairs of rings there, scissoring their fingers strongly, pressing the hands below theirs firmly into the stone.

A searing jolt of power ran from Severus to Harry, who cried out as it augmented his power, draining him as it shot across the contact at their joined hands in the centre to flow into Dana and then into Colin. They stood transfixed while the magic of their bonds flowed through them, never losing contact with the Stone as the resources they drew upon wrestled with the castle's magic, compelling it to release the bond it had with Harry and Severus and transfer it to Dana and Colin.

Small pieces of stone rained down on them as the castle shuddered. With one final wrench, it surrendered to the sheer strength of their combined power, relinquishing the Stone's control to Dana. Out-finessed, the Wards woven into the Stone followed.

Unhappy with losing Harry, the aftershocks of the castle's displeasure rippled in ever-decreasing intensity until, with one final shiver, it sighed and acquiesced. Now resigned, it would obey.

Colin was now the new Headmaster, Keeper of the Wards. Dana was now the Keeper of the Stone.

Severus was just Severus and Harry, well, Harry was really tired and feeling a bit bereft with the loss of the constant white noise that had been an intimate part of him for so many decades. He could still feel some dim echoes of it and guessed it would just have to be good enough.

Using the last of her reserves, Dana ordered the Stone to take them home. They rose in the same manner they'd fallen and with a resounding click, the circle, the plinth, the column, three very tired wizards and one witch returned to their rightful place in the headmaster's office, now Colin's office. Their hands sprang out of the globe, now inert Mage-glass, Dana's still under Harry's.

They broke contact. Severus stumbled and fell to one knee. Harry felt pretty shaky himself. Colin fell prostrate to the floor; Dana bent over him on her knees, reassured by the steady rise and fall of his chest. Her own breathing ragged, the unsettling chittering of the castle roiled in her head.

_They'll be fine after some sleep,_ Harry thought, his head reeling. _We all will._

Obviously woozy, Severus stood. Joining him, Harry asked, "Are you all right?" as he ran his hand through his hair and touched his cheek.

"I'm fine. Just give me a few moments to recover." He grimaced. "Thrice-damned castle always did like you better."

TBC


	16. Call My Name and Save Me From the Dark

**Bring Me To Life : A Continuation**  
by I Got Tired of Waiting

**Part II : Dearly Departed**  
**Call My Name and Save Me From the Dark**

o0o

_"So, it didn't work?" Harry asked, the memory clear in his head._

_"Obviously not, or we wouldn't be in this predicament."_

_"How were we supposed to know?" Harry asked heatedly. "It's not like it came with instructions!"_

_"Well, I certainly didn't know. Albus did, though. When I told him what had happened, he scolded me. 'You can't do that!' Severus mimicked in a whiny voice, 'Surely you remember that!'" As Harry drew breath, Severus added, "At which time I reminded him, none too gently, that he'd left that juicy little titbit, and quite a few others, out of the primer he forgot to give us."_

_Harry chuckled appreciatively. "Severus, you're evil."_

_"Perhaps, but it might be wiser to save your applause for after the curtain-call. We're not done yet."_

_"So, what other pearls of wisdom did Albus give you?"_

_"Too many, actually. Once you become the headmaster, you can never leave the castle for any appreciable time. It's a forever job, your lifespan measured by the castle's longevity._

_"Forever? But that would mean..."_

_"Yes. Albus told me that all the previous headmasters either died of unnatural causes--like Albus himself, or by their own hand."_

_"So, for a little normalcy, we traded immortality?" When Severus nodded, a smile playing about his lips, Harry chuckled. "Sounds like we got the better end of the deal."_

_"True, but unfortunately it was never up for negotiation and, in our case, we were twice cursed. Seems that when we set the Draconus Wards into the Earth Stone, our marriage bond inadvertently merged with the Stone; the two were inseparable. You were right; the bloody thing was--is married to us."_

_So how do we get a divorce?_

Severus chuckled. _We need to break its bond with us._

_"All right, I can see that, but how...?"_

_"When we used the rings in the transfer, we managed to sever part of that bond, but not all. And when the castle sensed our intent to leave? It used the remnant of itself within us to make us ill, trying to make us stay. It started with me because I was the weaker of the two, but it went too far and I... died."_

_Harry knew how much that admission cost him._

_"You know our marriage bond will never let us part?" Severus continued._

_Harry nodded, "Would you have wanted it to?"_

_"Never. Not even before we were joined, did I ever want to part with you."_

_Harry wished it was more than Severus' words that could touch him._

_"We were never meant to go separately and our bond is trying to reunite us. The castle is unhappy with this and the two are fighting for supremacy._

_"That still doesn't tell me what we need to do."_

_"Do you ever pay attention?" Severus asked, exasperated. "If I can't go back, you will have to come here. When you die, they both gain a victory... of sorts. If we're together, the bond is happy. If your body remains there, the castle is content. It's close to a win-win situation for both."_

_"Except to those we leave behind," Harry softly said. "It was awful being alone."_

_Severus considered him a moment and replied just as softly, "Yes, there is that. It's not been exactly pleasant here, you know." His eyes narrowed thoughtfully. "I'm thinking," he added slowly, "if the Wards aren't transferred fully to Colin, if we don't break the connection the Stone has with our bond, the castle might tear itself apart. Hell, the whole region, perhaps, could be vulnerable to invasion." He closed his eyes, afraid of his thoughts. "We still don't know how critical the Hogwarts Stone is to the rest of the Network. It might all collapse."_

_"That's a sobering thought," Harry mused. "What are the odds of it really happening?"_

_"Considerably better than our odds of ever fully understanding it," Severus replied with a small smile. "There is, however, one thing we need to do... if we can." Harry tilted his head in question. "We should warn Colin and Dana."_

_"So, we get to write the 'Headmaster's Primer'?" At Severus' ironic nod, he asked, "So, oh great and mighty one, how the hell do we do that?"_

_"I thought you'd never ask..."_

o0o

Waking in the infirmary, Harry felt strangely lucid for someone who was dying. _Severus, this had better work,_ he thought fiercely.

With as little movement as possible, a quick glance to the side revealed Remus and Arabella embraced in a large chair, Ron and Hermione curled together asleep on one bed, Seth asleep in the corner, and Colin with his young wife curled up in the other bed. _Why it's a regular party,_ he thought.

Weak, he dragged himself out of the bed. When he finally got his feet over the side, touching the floor, he made a huge effort and managed to stand. Swaying, he caught the footboard to steady himself. Taking a deep breath, he shuffled across the room, shivering from the intense cold. When he finally could see his friends clearly, he held out his shaking wand. As he was about to cast a sleeping spell, Ron and Hermione's eyes opened as one and they gazed at him. With pleading eyes, he whispered, "Got to go to Severus," and as understanding and love dawned in their eyes, he let the spell loose, _"Sopophorus Septus."_

In Seth's hands, the spell had only relaxed Harry. In Harry's hands, even weakened as he was, the spell put all of them into a deep sleep.

After waiting to make certain they were unconscious, Harry turned to leave when it occurred to him he didn't have the strength or the energy to walk all the way to his quarters. Certainly not undetected. He thought a minute with ever increasing difficulty as the fever played tricks on him. In the end, he thought he might just make it by Floo.

He hobbled to the nearby fireplace and, after the third try, managed to grab a handful of silver powder out of the dragon's horn hung by the fireplace. Throwing the powder into the fireplace and saying "Harry's Rooms" took about all the energy he had. The grates whizzing by making him dizzy, he tumbled out of his fireplace onto the floor face down and lay there unmoving. _Damn, that hurt!_

Little by little, he pulled himself up to his knees and, crawling across the floor--which was tilting up at him at an odd angle, he made his way over to the desk Severus used for school business. It was closer. He'd never looked through it, but he was fairly certain Severus had pen, parchment, and ink in there.

Upon reaching the desk, he pulled himself up until he was kneeling in front of it, the cold stone floor biting into his shins and feet where they made contact. Rifling through the papers there with weaker and weaker hands, he finally located a piece of empty parchment Severus had cut off the bottom of one of the exhausting letters he always wrote.

Harry smiled fondly with the memory of the letters received while travelling, the _long_ rolls of parchment Severus would send him every day. And between every line of homey news and gossip, Severus conveyed his everlasting love. He'd savour them each night before bed, the missives bringing him home to Severus, making him forget for one small moment the exhaustion and loneliness.

_Loneliness... Alone! Damn it, Potter, pull yourself together. Just this one small thing and you can go home!_ The sudden anger directed at himself gave him the impetus to unstopper the ink, grab the quill and begin to write.

Almost finished with the short note, he was distracted by the rumblings of the castle. _He's started,_ he thought panicked, writing faster as the castle shook and groaned around him. Finally done, he struggled to stand, knocking the inkwell over in his effort. His last thought before the fever overtook him was that Hermione would appreciate the irony.

o0o

_"I'm so tired. Why am I so tired? And cold, oh, so cold," Harry complained listlessly._

_"The spell is drawing off your life energy to bring you here. You're probably having some spectacular convulsions right now."_

_"Git. I want to touch you. When can I go? When can I come home?' he asked petulantly._

_"You can't be through writing the letter; we must wait until then."_

_"Why? What does it matter? I'm so tired; I just want to come home."_

_Severus reached out a hand to touch him, thought better of it and withdrew his hand. His eyes conveying what his hands could not, he said gently, "Harry, just a few minutes more, love, and I promise I'll bring you home. You know it's not fair to leave Colin with no warning."_

_"Yes, yes. I know. I'll try to be patient." Severus gave a short laugh, knowing Harry would never succeed._

_Suddenly startled, Severus' unfocussed gaze settled somewhere over Harry's shoulder, his brows puckering in concern. "They're looking for you. The spell you cast was too weak to hold them for very long. You'd better hope they don't find you before we're finished; if they touch you, this won't work."_

_"No," Harry panted, feeling very tired, very... thin. "I can't feel them. I can't feel you. Make me feel, Severus. Make me real. Please," the last said as a prayer._

_Severus stepped behind him, his front to Harry's back. "You're right, we cannot wait any longer; I hope you've had enough time. Hold out your arms."_

_Harry complied and watched incuriously as Severus extended his hands over Harry's. "If Albus got this wrong, I'm going to kill him," Snape muttered._

_"A little late for that, don't you think?"_

_"Erm... Yes, I suppose it is at that." Severus chuckled._

_He carefully placed his right hand on Harry's right hand. "I know you can't feel this, but I can; you'll just have to trust me on this."_

_Harry lifted his head, looking back at Severus. "I always have, why should I stop now?" he asked seriously._

_A sharp retort dying on his lips, Severus hesitated a moment as the import of Harry's words filled his heart. He leaned forward and placed a gentle kiss on Harry's cheek, even knowing he couldn't feel it. "I don't know how to respond to that; I need some time to find something suitable... how about eternity?" he asked humbly._

_"I think I could... live... with that," Harry quipped. Severus smiled._

_"Are you ready?" he asked, all business again. At Harry's nod, he breathed in his ear, "Now we go home," his left hand settling firmly on Harry's, rings mating. Harry knew his hand was there... he could see it but couldn't feel it._

_The surge of power once again flowed through them. The first thing Harry felt was the heat of the ring on his finger, burning, melting, melding into the ring on Severus' hand._

_"I can feel your hand!" he cried with joy._

_"Concentrate, Harry. Don't lose me." Severus growled_

_Arms now outstretched like a benediction, Harry felt currents of raw power stirring his robes, his hair, pushing him back, back, back into Severus, the firm body supporting him._

_Inch by inch, muscle by muscle, he grew aware of the much-loved body behind him, the arms touching him, the soft breath in his ear. With each passing moment, he felt weaker and weaker as his earthly power left him--bringing him to life--with Severus. As his body began to sag, Severus caught him around the waist with their mingled right hands, left hands never separating. Severus grunted with the combined effort of holding Harry and continuing the flow of the magic._

_"One--last--push," he croaked, voice and body strained. Harry increased his concentration, feeling one life leaving him, feeling the other beginning._

_More..._  
_Need more..._  
_Oh, gods... yes... that's it..._  
_Almost..._  
_Almost... Oh, yes... there..._

_With a bright flash of light, Harry felt the last of his power drain out of him, the new supplanting the old. He felt so alive, so strong, so--_

_"Oh gods, we did it," Harry cried joyously, turning to take Severus into an ardent embrace. Severus couldn't get enough of him; Harry never wanted to let him go. Their lips and hearts met and time stood still._

_The spell was gone, spent, but they didn't need it anymore. They could and would stand on their own._

_After an eternity, arms still wrapped around each other, they leaned back enough to see each other--dark burning eyes to blazing green. "Don't ever do that to me again," Severus muttered, his lips lowering to find the sensitive spot under Harry's ear. "It's been torture here without you."_

_Harry pulled his head away to look at him, incredulous. "Torture? Who sat helpless watching you fade away to nothing? Who left first?" His eyes filled. "Who buried you? Who greeted the faces of those you left behind?" The tears leaked over his lids, falling unchecked down his face. "You took all of you with you and half of me as well. You left me... alone."_

_Overcome at last by the whole ordeal, Harry buried his face in Severus' shoulder and purged his sorrow, his fists desperately grasping Severus' robes at his back, shoulders shaking with the force of his grief. Severus tightened his hold on Harry's familiar waist, his hand buried in his hair, stroking the nape of his neck. He willingly accepted Harry's remonstrations and tears, pouring all the love in his soul into him. Falling to their knees in the warm grass of the Hinterlands, they spent their torment._

_Nestling his face even deeper into Severus' neck and shoulder, Harry released all his anguish and distress of the last few days. Cleansed, he sighed and relaxed into the loving embrace, the tears turning into ones of elation, his hands flat on Severus' back trying to draw out of him all the strength he'd lost. Severus, his own cheeks wet, ran his hands gently up and down his back._

_"It's good to be home," he said softly, lips trailing across Harry's cheek, drying his tears with each soft kiss._

_"Home. Home," Harry murmured, hands trailing fire down his spine. "You've been my only home. Don't ever go away again... please?"_

_"I promise." And a searing kiss sealed it._

o0o

Harry stood swaying, fevered, alone in the middle of the room, unaware of his surroundings, his face full of ecstasy. His gaunt body leaned back at an impossible angle, his hands extended part-way from his body, palms down facing the floor, fingers fully extended.

The castle walls rocked. Bits of stone and plaster fell from the ceiling as it writhed with the effort to hold him there.

He swayed, the heat rising continuously in his body until with a strong flash of light, he arched back in one final convulsion, his face a study of complete triumph.

The castle rumbled and groaned, the very foundations shaking as it ungraciously gave up its struggle. Harry's lifeless shell crumpled to the floor, a flutter of parchment lying by his hand.

TBC


	17. Bid My Blood to Run

**Bring Me To Life : A Continuation**  
by I Got Tired of Waiting

**Part II : Dearly Departed**  
**Bid My Blood to Run**

Seth abruptly woke at dawn, the lingering after-effects of a powerful sleeping spell leaving muzzy trails through his head. _Sleeping Spell?_ He bolted from the chair, his muscles protesting the sudden movement, his head swiftly clearing with the adrenaline flowing through him as he rushed over to the other bed.

Harry was gone.

Incredulous, he looked all around the room for him, seeing only the sleeping forms of the three other couples. He concentrated, fully extending his senses. There, on the other side of the castle, he caught the faint life signs. _In his rooms--he must be there._

He looked over at the fireplace and saw the spilled Floo powder on the floor. _Floo, he used the Floo. Damn, this is most inconvenient. Only he and Severus can use the Floo directly into their quarters. Double damn!_

For a brief moment he considered going after Harry himself but, given the wizard's strength and the possibility of grief madness mixed with fevered delirium, he wasn't foolhardy enough to try it alone. He needed help.

Resigned at the delay, he turned and faced the six drugged people in front of him. He pulled out his wand and sweeping it across the slumbering forms said, _"Finis Sopophorus Sextus."_

With stretching groans and mumbled incoherencies, six very sleepy people passed from dreams to reality.

"Wha-What?" Remus asked sluggishly. "What's going on?"

"Harry's gone," Seth stated flatly.

_That woke them up!_ he thought with some satisfaction.

"When? Where?" several voices asked at once.

"How," the last from Ron. Glancing at Hermione, he added, "We saw him last night, right before he knocked us out. He was standing right where you are and whispered 'Got to go to Severus,' and then he cast the spell before we could do anything."

_Not that I would have,_ Ron thought. Hermione caught his eye and nodded.

"The evidence points to him going by Floo. I think to his rooms," Seth replied to Ron's first enquiry. "It's locked. We'll have to go after him on foot.

"Nonsense," said Colin, "As headmaster, I have access to all parts of the Floo. Even their quarters.

"You're welcome to try, but _Harry_ set their wards," Seth reminded him with some asperity; he was in too much of a hurry to worry about wounded pride.

"Damn!" Colin exclaimed.

_My sentiments exactly,_ Seth thought.

"Well, that's that," Ron said, rising to leave. "Let's go."

Concentrating, Seth visualized his form and, with little fanfare, changed into his Animagi, a wolf. His grey eyes stared at them, willing them to hurry.

"Capital idea," Remus said transfiguring into a wolf as well, the she-wolf next to him impatient to be off.

"We're surrounded by dogs... lovely," Colin murmured as he rapidly changed into a black cat, yowling as the striped ginger sitting patiently next to him licked his face.

"Merlin, I hate cats," Ron said, quickly changing into a mouse, quite a feat considering his size, "except you, dear". The small puma, who was his wife, growled at him to shut-up. He quickly scrambled up her leg and onto her back, digging into her fur with a death grip.

They six ran out the door.

Down the stairway and halls they flew, scattering, like so much chaff to the wind, both students and staff, who gaped at the menagerie as it raced past them. _Get the hell out of our way,_ the wolves growled urgently as they pelted down the halls, their words not heard, but their meaning clearly understood by the people desperately trying to do just that. Past the Fat Lady, past the Slytherin common room, where they almost bowled over the slow-moving Sinistra, past the stairs to the dungeons and Snape's old lair, clear to the other side of the castle and up another staircase, the torches flickering in their wake. Down another hall they went, never slowing their pace.

The wolves lead, their smooth gait eating the distance, their nails clicking on the floor. They were followed by the cats, their stretching bodies streaking silently across the flagged pavement. The puma and her small burden weren't too far behind, her still flowing stride slowed somewhat by age.

When they reached the door to Harry and Severus' rooms, they skidded to a halt and, almost as one, they transfigured back into their human shapes, breathing hard.

"Wow," Ron said, the only one not winded, "what a ride!" The others glared at him and he shrugged innocently.

Colin went to the door and put his hand on it, trying to feel the wards placed on it. He glanced back at them in surprise, eyebrows raised. "It's not locked!" he exclaimed.

Just as he was about the open the door, the castle rumbled. Colin staggered and righted himself against the frame. He looked at Dana, who was pale and trembling. "Hurry," she gasped.

He reached for the knob and the castle wrenched, the stones rocking beneath their feet. Bits of stone and plaster fell on them, the pieces not large enough to injure but enough to get their attention.

"COLIN!" Dana cried rushing to his side as he suddenly stiffened and collapsed, his eyes rolling back in his head. Seth barely caught him before he hit the floor.

"Goddamn you!" Dana cried to no one in particular, but very much to the castle, its presence starting to fill her head once more. She knelt beside Colin, too weak to move.

Arabella bent to help Dana and Seth stayed with Colin. They motioned the others to go on without them.

And thus it was that Harry's closest friends and confidants were the only witnesses to the flash of bright light filling the air, Harry's triumphant face, and his eternal silence as his lifeless body crumpled to the floor.

It was over and the castle rumbled in mourning.

Colin regained consciousness in slow reluctant, stages. He tried briefly to focus but was stopped by the hammering in his head. _My hair hurts,_ he thought with some irony. He knew he was in a bed, a rather uncomfortable one, but that was all he knew for the present.

He came further out of his daze when he felt the small movement and low groan coming from a soft warm body snuggled into his side. Ignoring the pain in his aching temples, he turned his head to see who was audacious enough to be in this bed with him. His eyes found Dana. _Oh that's all right, then; she's supposed to be here,_ he thought.

By trial and error, he found his hand and gently touched her cheek with it, the backs of his fingers caressing the soft, silky skin. She sighed gently, the sigh he knew was only for him, and leaned into his touch. _Funny place to be wanting your wife,_ he thought as he felt his body respond to her.

He heard a low wicked chuckle off to the side. _Female, by the sound of it,_ and turning his head, his eyes made contact with rich brown ones, staring at him knowingly. _Hermione. I must be in the infirmary._ The memories rushed him--the headlong run, the castle, his collapse, the scattered images in his brain before he lost consciousness. Images of... _Dana!_

He heard her soft breathing, the warm air stirring the hairs at his neck. His panic receded as he sensed her presence. _Ah, that's new._ He turned back to the eyes at the side of the bed, half-expecting the deep blue eyes sitting next to the brown ones.

"He's gone," he croaked, a statement not a question. _Damn, what happened to my voice?_ He cleared his throat.

The brown eyes closed, a tear leaking out from behind the still lush lashes. The head attached to the eyes nodded and he saw the owner of the blue eyes wrap his arm around her shoulders and pull her close, tenderly placing his lips on her cheek, her mouth.

He looked away, uncomfortable with their intimacy. "I'm sorry he's gone... they're gone," he said hoarsely. He cleared his throat again, stronger, "It's better... than seeing him like he was. They're together... better memories that way." He turned back to his wife, hiding the tears in his eyes.

He'd known they were gone with the heavy burden of the Wards coursing with his blood. He could _feel_ the power of the Castle in Dana. _Funny thing that. I can feel her._

He struggled to sit up without looking at them, hearing Hermione's distress, sensing Ron's sorrow. He felt Dana's hand on his arm. He looked down at her haunted eyes. Responding to an unspoken demand, he bent down, gently taking her lips with his. At her response, he deepened the kiss, his hand burying into her hair. There was no one else but them in that moment; the rest of the world faded out of existence as the centre of his being focused on her two lips... their kiss.

And so the castle began to teach them.

Remus came into the room, a short piece of parchment in his hand. He sat in a huge chair next to Ron and Hermione, who were comfortably ensconced on a sofa in Seth's rooms off of the infirmary. They'd left shortly after reassuring themselves that Colin was going to be all right, assuming that his... involvement with Dana was a good sign.

That had been a surprise. Privately convinced that Colin was a stick-in-the-mud, Ron was rocked a bit when he'd witnessed the passion exchanged between Colin and Dana. _Almost worthy of Draco,_ he thought without his customary sadness.

"Have you told him yet?" Remus asked Ron.

"No, we never got a chance; he already knew."

"Must be the castle's doing... now that everything's finally transferred over to them. Seth has some interesting theories about that. Thinks a partial transfer may be why Severus and Harry both got sick..." He stopped at actually saying "and died." He wasn't ready yet.

Seth walked into his living room and, seeing all but one of the comfortable furniture taken, sat at the chair at his writing desk. He didn't know what he wanted and was feeling rather empty. Severus, Harry, and Lenore... all gone.

He heard his mother call his name softly and, at her gesture, sat next to her on the couch, his father moving over good-naturedly. Hermione took his hand; he felt silly and a bit too old for any maternal hand-holding.

"Nonsense, one is never too old to be told they are loved," she said looking over at him with a smile.

He shook his head. _After all these years, you'd think I'd remember how she reads minds._

She chuckled, "I don't read minds, love. I read hearts."

Arabella wandered in, her face drained and body slumped with exhaustion. Without speaking, she nodded at the others and replaced her husband's hand in his lap with her weary body. Holding onto his shoulders, she curled up with a heavy sigh, seemingly asleep.

A bit startled, Remus' face softened and he handed Ron the parchment before wrapping his arms around her waist, holding her firmly against him. "I guess I'm not going anywhere, soon," he said on a soft laugh.

"You could just pick her up and put her in the bed," Ron suggested.

"Nah, where would be the fun in that?"

"Have you shown them the parchment yet?" Hermione asked. There was no question as to who 'they' were.

"The door to the private room was closed. I took it as a sign that my presence would be unwelcome. It can wait a while."

"It's funny that," Hermione continued. "Harry says the information is in _Hogwarts, A History_, but for the life of me I couldn't remember it. So I went back and looked and there it was... plain as day... right in the front: _'...The Headmaster of Hogwarts is the protector of the castle and all those within. He is ever a member of the House Slytherin and once bound with the castle, may never leave the influence of the Stone until borne upon the shoulders of his pall-bearers...'_ As many times as I've read that book, I've never seen it. Harry was right, the irony is just entirely too delicious."

"Maybe it _wasn't_ there," Arabella said sleepily.

"What do you mean?" Hermione asked, sitting to full attention.

Arabella straightened, still in Remus' lap. Looking at the curious faces around her, she began, "I've known Severus Snape all my life; we were born in the same year, in the same neighbourhood. I grew up with him as a child and went to school with him here. One might even say we were friends." She paused and, levitating a glass of water to her, took a large swallow.

"Severus was so bright... so quick and once he read something, he never forgot it. I find it impossible to believe he would miss something that significant. _Hogwarts, A History_ is an odd book; it adds knowledge and history as it occurs. Maybe those words weren't there before because they didn't need to be there as there'd always been an unbroken line of headmasters, each passing the necessary knowledge orally to the next-in-line."

"Think about it. Albus thought Minerva would be the new headmistress when he died. He'd given her all the wards and all the information she needed to do the job. But she walked away from it and never passed the information on to Severus, probably thinking it was unimportant because he was the one who'd reset the wards, not her. And Albus may not have had the time to pass everything on to her; his death was... unforeseen." She paused significantly.

Hermione nodded, fascinated. This explained so much and, when she thought on it, Severus had said as much himself years before.

"Not that it really mattered. Severus and Harry changed the wards and protections to fit the times; the old ones didn't exist anymore. I find it significant that the entire job wasn't passed on to one man because two shared it."

She took another sip of the water. "When Harry almost died setting the Draconus Ward, I think it wasn't because of the power involved (although that certainly had something to do with it), but because he'd found the right combination for the Stone to absorb their essence into it. And when they tried to leave, it killed them." She took in the stunned looks on the faces around her.

"I think you've the right of it, Arabella. I don't think I could have put it better." Colin said calmly from the doorway, Dana at his side. "It's what we're feeling right now... inside." He paused as five pairs of eyes swung over to him. "There are two of us, but we're regarded as one person."

He looked at the floor, almost as if embarrassed. Dana put her hand on his arm and, leading him to the last of the big empty chairs, she climbed into his lap, her arm around his shoulder. He closed his eyes and seemed to draw strength from the contact.

Opening them, he said, "We'd always thought our marriage was arranged by our parents, but Severus told us a few months ago that he'd made the pairing and contacted our parents for permission. It had something to do with bloodlines. When we were married it was done in two parts... first with a private hand-fasting, then followed with the public binding a few days later. Severus said he'd bound us with the same spells Albus had used to bind him and Harry."

He tightened his hold on Dana and continued in an angry voice, "And it went beyond our binding. He... engineered us. He needed precise bloodlines to match theirs, so for eighty years he manipulated people starting with you three and combined the houses to get the combination he required." He looked right at Hermione. "He used your bloody genetic charts to... create us.

"Then he had to bind us in that certain manner so that the Stone and Wards wouldn't reject us. We... I was so angry when I found out. I never wanted to be headmaster. I just wanted to continue my studies and be with my wife. It was Harry, with his quiet unassuming ways, who finally convinced us... me that it would be all right. Gods, I'm going to miss him."

They all looked away from his tears. After a few minutes, he got himself under control. "There was only one major stumbling block to all of his plans. We..." he hesitated, looking at Dana.

"--Can't have children," she finished for him, her voice gentle as always. "Harry found out early in our marriage when he discovered me one day out in the garden, crying. Seth had just given me the news and I was so unhappy." Her eyes glazed over for a moment with the memory. "But Harry is just like me and convinced me to take my circumstances and work with them. He is... was a Gryffindor, after all," she said with quiet pride.

"And a Slytherin, too. Harry was Slytherin..." Hermione said, looking hard at Colin, her cheeks flushed. "I think this is where I come in." They all looked at her with surprise.

"I know this is hard on you, I know you don't like it, but please don't let it colour your perceptions until you have the full truth. You're labouring under some misconceptions and I just can't stand by and let you continue them." She continued to hold Colin's gaze. Ron took her hand. "I just can't let you malign Severus. He was such a good man and everything is not as it appears."

Taking a deep breath to steady her, she continued, "Severus didn't use my charts to plan the bloodlines. I did. I planned them."

At their shocked stares, she continued. "Severus and Harry made the specifications of the heirs they required. I created the bloodlines through successive generations, sifting through hundreds of family lines tied to Hogwarts and to two specific houses, Slytherin and Gryffindor. It took five years of planning and sixty-five years of begging to make it work. Considering the losses we took during the Muggle Wars, it's a bloody miracle we succeeded."

She paused to let the words sink in. "Your births were arranged sixty years before they happened. It wasn't a careful manipulation, it was a desperate one. And you were just the stop-gap, I'm sorry to say. We couldn't get the bloodlines right until one generation _after_ we thought Harry and Severus would be dead. Severus predicted it would happen nearly twenty years ago, and it almost did when Harry over-extended himself setting the Wards.

"So we had to create two parallel bloodlines: the heirs and the guardians. You're _both_ blood-kin to them, the closest we could create. You, Colin, have the Slytherin bloodlines of Albus Dumbledore and Lydia Peabody nee' Snape, Severus' sister. Dana, you bear the Gryffindor bloodlines of Lily Evans, Harry's mother through the Muggle line of her nephew, Dudley Dursley, and the Slytherin bloodline of Draco Malfoy through my daughter Daisy."

"It wasn't easy. We almost botched it when we discovered by accident that Harry's great-grandfather was a strong Slytherin born on the wrong side of the blanket. It took us months to unravel and reweave the required pairings. I sacrificed my daughter's love-match on the two of you by making them take a third. It was _that_ important we match the houses."

With a big grin on her face, her eyes glazed over with memory, she continued, "I can remember Harry making Severus curb his impatience over Ginny and Neville. It was so important to him that Ginny have a love-match. Oh the planning, the machinations, how they threw them together, the absurd situations those two old lovebirds put them through. And then, once they finally got them married, they were no longer so young..."

"Oi! The fertility Potions Severus made... and made... and made. We needed a boy and Ginny kept having girls. I can remember one time I thought Harry was going to die of convulsions when Neville innocently asked Ginny if she was certain her Animagi wasn't a rabbit."

They all laughed appreciatively.

"When Severus came to them ten years later about a match for their son--your father, Colin--it was the first time any of us had ever seen Neville truly angry. He refused. Ginny knew something was afoot and came to see me about it. I told her the truth. She told me not to worry about it and the next week she and Neville signed the marriage contract with the Parkers."

She stopped at the stunned look on their all their faces. They'd never known any of it and had not been meant to know; it was one of their greatest secrets.

"You were never meant to be anything more than the guiding hand for Altus and Althea. _They_ are the end of the bloodlines. They've been trained to be the next Headmaster and Castle Keeper after you and their separate progeny will be able to provide all the leaders the school and Hogsmeade will ever need, in any combination. _They_ will be free to marry whomever they choose.

"You've no idea how much Severus and Harry hated the bond, hated the way it had taken their free will away, especially in the beginning. They wanted their 'heirs' to be free of it, yet Severus was a practical Slytherin and it was with great regret he bound you the way he did twenty-five years ago... five years before they thought they'd be gone--plenty of time to prepare you.

"The bonding was vital because Altus and Althea might not have been born yet when you took over the school. I'm sorry if this offends your sensibilities, but we had to breed those who could take over the Wards before Altus and Althea. And once the chain of events started, we couldn't change it. Your place was fixed. Altus and Althea cannot take over directly from Severus and Harry; they can only take over from you."

Ron cleared his throat. "The spell did it, that bloody piece of happenstance." He lowered his voice. "Harry and Severus should _never_ have taken over the school. Their spell bond was potent magic no one understood, not even Albus. Minerva should have taken over the school, but her grief overrode her good sense. Had she done what she was ordained to do, none of this would have been necessary," Ron finished, visibly upset. A spasm of pain, quickly erased, passed over his face and he put his hand over his stomach. Seth leaned towards him, his healing senses alerted; Ron told him with his eyes to leave be. Seth nodded, telling him 'later' with a glance.

Feeling his pain, Hermione hastily spoke, hoping to distract their friends from noticing. "As near as they could reckon, the combination of the new and ancient spells when combined with The Earth Stone fused them into one bond. They were inseparable. The hope was that with your similar bloodlines, and your similar bond, a smooth transition could be made from one generation to the next."

Her breath catching, Hermione stated quietly, "We all know how that turned out; we lost them both."

She waited a moment, holding her own sorrow at bay before saying softly, "It wasn't until later that we realised, to our horror, that Harry had accidentally imbued a little bit of their bond into every single Stone he'd warded. The possibility existed that if the Hogwarts Earth Stone fell, it would take over half of everything else with it!"

Stunned silence met her declaration. "For this reason Severus decided to retire. He had to know if the Wards would pass smoothly, had to know so if they didn't, he had time to figure out how to make it happen." She started crying silently. She said through her tears, "And he was tired. So tired. They just wanted a few years of being normal. Now... now, they've nothing at all."

She put her head in her hands. Ron reached over and took her in his arms, rocking her gently.

Raising her head, she said softly, "Do you truly know what the worst part was? They... we _cared_. All of you, all of the generations we mixed, you weren't just names on a sheet of paper, not just bloodlines, you were all... people to us. Every birth, every marriage, every death, every successive generation closer to our goals _meant_ something to us. We loved you all, and you never knew."

She turned from them and buried her face in Ron's shoulder, his arms tightening around her, holding her fast.

His face thoughtful, Colin began a low chuckle. Catching his thoughts, Dana joined him a few seconds later. Hermione raised her head and stared at him as if he were mad.

"No, I'm not crazy. I was just thinking that it was such a _Slytherin_ thing to do. Such an audacious plan, breath-taking actually in its scope, formidably daring considering the odds of success; it was worthy of Salazar himself." He continued chuckling. "I think even your Albus would have been proud. From all reports, he was a conniving old bastard." They all smiled; he was right.

"And I have to admit, if faced with the same choices, I would have, without prejudice, done the same thing, which is quite a sobering thought and puts it into its proper perspective. Thank you, Hermione. I _was_ labouring under a misconception as you so tactfully phrased it. And..." he hesitated as sentiment wasn't easy for him, "thank you for caring." His eyes were suspiciously bright. Clearing his throat, huskily, he added, "I think I can live with it. What about you, love?"

Dana nodded and said "You know us Gryffindors. We face what we face when we face it. It's just another adventure. Besides, I think the castle likes me better."

They all laughed lightly, thinking of all the times Severus had said that to Harry.

Their healing had begun.

Colin cleared his throat again, a habit he had when he was nervous. "Now, what I would like to know is how this whole conversation started. We came in just past the beginning when Ara was talking." Spying the parchment in Ron's hand, he asked with a raised eyebrow, "I believe you've something for me?"

"Here." Ron half rose off the couch and handed the scrap to the waiting outstretched hand.

Colin took the piece of Parchment from Ron and, settling back in the chair, he and Dana began to read. He puzzled over the writing, which he privately thought looked like Harry had written while dodging Bludgers. It was very messy. Of course the smear of ink across the bottom half of the page didn't help either, but if one looked closely enough, it was legible... barely. As he neared the end, he began to chuckle, Dana joining his a beat later.

_Dear Colin & Dana,_

_Not much time--need to get back to Severus--must warn you--bonds fucked-up--sorry--Wards are not transferred--Castle trying to keep us here --you both can never leave the Stone--you are meant to go together--look in Hogwarts, A History--it's there--Hermione will love the irony--Must go--he's started to bring me home--Love, Harry_

_PS--Hold onto this--proof--Hinterlands, yes--underworld, no--may be worth a few sickles at WW?_

It was _so_ Harry.

TBC


	18. A Private Place for Private Things

**Bring Me To Life : A Continuation**  
by I Got Tired of Waiting

**Part II : Dearly Departed**  
**Intermission Seven : A Private Place for Private Things**

"Argh!" Harry exclaimed, throwing the quill down on his desk. He looked longingly out the window at the fine spring afternoon and wondered for the thousandth time why he was in here and not out there.

"You're in here because you procrastinated on those lesson plans I've been requesting for the last four weeks; they're due tomorrow and now you _have_ to do them," Severus said serenely behind him, sitting at his own desk with some correspondence he was answering.

"I don't know why you make me write them every year, they never change. Why can't I reuse the one from last year?"

"Perhaps because you hadn't thought of it... until today? And I do not 'make you write them', you do."

Harry turned around and glared at Severus. "You mean, I could have..."

Severus shrugged. "Everyone else does with some minor changes here and there for new material. I don't ask you to _rewrite_ it every year, I merely ask you to submit _this_ year's plan. There _is_ a subtle difference, you know."

Severus deftly ducked the inkwell thrown at him and laughed aloud when the reflecting charm he cast sent the ink back, pouring all over Harry's head. Harry laughed as he used the cleaning spell to remove the dripping ink from his head and shirt.

"You... bugger! You've let me write this over and over for the last four years... without _telling_ me?"

"It's the simple things that keep me going."

With a wave of his hand, Harry turned Severus' hair bright pink. He was hard pressed to keep from laughing outright.

Harry felt a tingle in his backside just as Severus said, "I felt that!"

Harry started laughing but stopped suddenly when his tail hit the back of his head.

Severus wore a silly smile as he eyed the outrageously long prehensile tail twisting over Harry's head. "Young Peavsey did that the other day at breakfast to Jason, the Hufflepuff Prefect. Since Jason is such a pompous oaf sometimes, just about everyone, including three other teachers and myself, have neglected to give him the counterspell. I believe he's learning parlour tricks with it now. It was imminently satisfying."

"Very funny. Still, I suppose it could have its... uses," Harry leered evilly. "Maybe I should turn it pink to match your hair."

Severus leapt out of his chair and ran to the mirror. "Ha-arry," he drawled warningly.

"Sev-rus," Harry said slowly. "Are you planning on fixing my tail."

Severus glared at him in the mirror and muttered something about his "tail". Harry suspected it wasn't about the long one he was sporting, either. Severus put his hand up to his head and held it there a few seconds before muttering a counterspell. It turned a lovely bile green. "I never should have let you study with Flitwick this past winter," he muttered darkly.

"Hair for my tail?" Harry asked, pleased with his pun.

Severus rolled his eyes and groaned, waved his hand, and Harry felt a little lighter in the backside. He waved his hand at Severus, restoring his black hair.

"Rather boring. I sort of liked the green," Harry snickered.

"Oh? And I was rather anxious to see what you could do with that tail..."

They eyed each other a moment, hands poised, when as one they laughed and said, "Nah."

"Let's get out of here," Harry said on a whim. "I can't stand being cooped inside. Let's take a walk or something."

"Not until you finish that lesson plan."

"No problem." Harry rummaged around his messy desk and, fishing out his lesson plans from last year, handed them to his spouse.

Severus shook his head. "How you _ever_ find anything is a bloody miracle." Looking over the stained parchment with distaste, he asked, "Where are the additions we put in at the end of the term?"

"Oh, those are scribbled on the back along with some other notes."

Severus turned it over and read the corrections along with a helter-skelter list of all the points Harry had awarded and Severus had taken away with a running total for each house. They all added to zero. He mentally smiled and resolved to make it more difficult for Professor Potter to undermine his artistic work next term.

"I can't use this. It's a mess," Severus said severely.

Harry grinned unrepentantly. "You never said it had to be neat, just complete; it's the little things, remember?"

Severus glared at him, "Prat."

"What? No nasty adjective? Severus, you're slipping." He chuckled. "_Now_ can we go?"

Severus thought about it a second and, holding the lesson plan by only a finger and thumb, said, "It _is_ rather confining and I'm certain... this... will wait until the morrow."

They donned their robes and left the castle this fine Saturday. Lifting their faces to receive the sun's benediction, the warm breeze stirred their robes around them as they made their way down to the lake. After taking a turn around its perimeter, talking about inconsequential things, Severus grew quieter, longing to take Harry in his arms out in the full sun and let the breeze waft across their skin. But he could also sense the eyes in the castle looking down at them, making such fancy impossible. _Watched, always watched,_ he thought, scowling.

Catching his souring mood, Harry looked up at the castle, feeling those same eyes but caring less about them. Without a word, he took Severus' hand and, not letting it go when he tried to pull it away, led him towards a grove of willows off to the side. _Let them think what they think._

They entered the grove from the side furthest from the castle. As many times as they'd been down at the lake, Harry wondered why he'd never been here before. Struck immediately by how quiet it was inside, his second thought was that he couldn't see the castle. _Maybe if I can't see them, they can't see us?_

Severus obviously had the same thoughts, for he hesitated only a fraction before pulling Harry into a loose embrace, his head dipping to place a quiet kiss on his mouth. It wasn't long before passion ignited and they were locked in a deep embrace and an even deeper kiss. Their robes shucked off, the sunlight on their exposed skin was like an aphrodisiac. Shirts swiftly followed the robes onto the grass behind them.

Dropping to the grass in the clearing, though, instantly killed the mood as hundreds of tiny little rocks bit into their bodies.

"Damn!" they exclaimed in unison. "That hurt," Harry added. Frustrated, he began to laugh ruefully. Sitting up, he carefully looked over the entire clearing and noticed the little rocks were everywhere; there was no place clear. "We could just move the stones out of the way. Maybe make a pile?" he said to Severus, a plan beginning to form in his mind. This place was just too perfect to let something like a few rocks spoil it.

Seeing where his thoughts were going, Severus scrambled to his feet and, holding out his wand hand, said _"Lapido Leviosa."_

Bemused, Harry watched as every rock in the clearing lifted as one into the air, including the few underneath him. Severus then spoke, _"Accio Centrum."_ The rocks obediently settled into a pile in the centre of the clearing. A rather large pile of mixed sizes.

Harry stood and, getting into the swing of it, said, _"Lapido Leviosa,"_ and once again the pile hung in the air. Severus looked askance at him, but he continued, _"Talis Parvum Magnum Lapido."_ The rocks then separated, smaller separate from larger. He grinned and then said, _"Accio Parvum Lapido Circus Fugio."_ The smaller rocks settled gently to the earth in a flat circle about ten feet in diameter.

Severus grinned at him. _"Accio Magnum Lapido Orbis Parvum Lapido"._ The larger rocks still hanging in the air settled down in a line around the perimeter of the smaller stones.

"Now what?" Harry asked him, running his hands up his arms.

"Well," he said, distracted by the soft stroking, "I either take you right here on the ground or we do something with that pile of stones."

"Hmmm," Harry said, "while the thought of you... taking me... anywhere has its definite appeal, I vote for doing something with the rocks."

They turned to look at the stones, hands entwined, both deep in thought. Severus had an idea. He walked over to the flat bed of rocks and perused them until he found one to his liking. Harry couldn't see anything special about it but shrugged mentally waiting to see what Severus had in mind. He placed the flattish stone in the centre and, holding both hands over it, whispered gently, _"Natus."_

Harry had heard Professor Sprout use the spell on several occasions when some plant or other was especially stubborn and watched in awe as a smattering of green started out from the stone and slowly started inching its way out from the centre of the pile of rocks.

Severus came back to his side. "Maybe we should do something with the outer rocks while we wait for the other to grow."

He'd no more said it, when Harry raised his hands and incanted, _"Sero Sterno Rapacia Magnum Lapido."_ The larger stones around the perimeter linked together, the tops smoothing to form a type of bench or table around the edge of the smaller stones.

"Clever. I see the extra work with Flitwick has been beneficial," Severus murmured. Harry glowed under the rare praise. "As much as I would like to stay here, I think we need to return. It's drawing late and the centre section will take a few more hours to grow. It should be finished by tomorrow."

Harry made a face but knew Severus was right. With one more brief kiss and heart-felt embrace, they left the grove and made their way back to the castle.

They had to brew a sunburn cure that night.

With the good intentions of rodents and Muggles, they were detained the next day and were unable to find the time to return to the grove. They were both antsy to see how their work had fared.

Midweek, after dinner, Harry packed (in a wicker basket he'd filched from the kitchens) a bottle of wine with two glasses, a candle, a small glass bottle, and a soft blanket. Waiting until after curfew, he convinced Severus to sneak out of the castle to go to 'their' grove.

Feeling like a couple of errant school children out after curfew, they crept to the grove of willows, the stars lighting their path on the moonless night.

Once inside, Harry turned to Severus before the other could grab him and said, "There's one thing we need to do before anything else and I need your help to do it." Severus raised an eyebrow. Harry leaned over and whispered in his ear. Severus straightened with a strange softness filling his face. Moving to the centre, they took off their boots and walked barefoot into the raised area.

They groaned at the sensual feel of the moist velvet beneath their feet, their toes kneading the incredible surface. Holding hands, they faced each other and, raising them to the sky, palms joined, they cried out in unison, _"Defendo Maritas!"_ Protect My Lover.

A powerful ward, it shot out of their hands in a blaze of light, spreading until it caged the entire grove with a soft glow. Then it faded, but they could feel its presence.

Harry bent down on his haunches and ran his hands over the soft carpet they stood on. It was moss. Soft moss thickly covered the whole area making a springy, fragrant mattress just for them. He stood and evaded Severus' kiss, his hands resting on his arms. A bit confused but sensing Harry's intentions, he stayed still and waited.

Harry started at the top, using his hands and his mouth and tongue on Severus. Inch by inch, he covered him with hot moist kisses and languid strokes, lingering on the soft sweet spots on his neck, divesting him of clothing as he went. Hot wet trails of fire over a bare chest, nipples lovingly laved, a tongue dipped into his belly button. Lower he went; hands smoothing then pressing the lean buttocks, tongue flicking on now hot flesh, but purposefully missing the heated length begging his attention.

Severus groaned and shivered as the warm spring air flitted across his bare skin and it was with the greatest effort he kept his hands dormant by his sides. Wanton hands gently stoked his hips, but purposely skipped the deep arousal. Harry stood and leaned in, gently nibbling on his mouth, his tongue tracing a warm wet path along his lips. When Severus raised his hands involuntarily, Harry took them in his own and pulled back.

_My turn,_ his eyes and thoughts said to him.

Severus paid the same loving attention to Harry who groaned and shuddered as Severus' mouth licked and nibbled its way down his body until he was completely unclothed. Severus knelt before him, his arms wrapped around his legs, stroking the sensitive skin behind his knees and up the back of his thighs. His face buried in his stomach, a hot trail of fire ran down him to where he burned, ready for his lover. He'd had no idea till it was his turn just how difficult it was to keep his arms by his side, especially when without warning, he felt himself wrapped in the velvety wet silk of Severus' mouth. Tongue, teeth, and lips created a symphony of sensation running havoc throughout his whole body.

_Gods, Severus... stop... I can't take any more... My hair's aroused,_ he thought as another shudder of pleasure rippled through him. Severus gave a low chuckle and with one final long lick with the tip of his tongue from base to head with a small suck at the eye, which Harry thought was going to explode his heart. Standing, Severus leaned in, joining their mouths and Harry could taste the pearls of himself on Severus' tongue.

As one they lowered themselves to the rich carpet. Soft fragrant moss cushioned them and in the velvety darkness, cradled by the bower they'd created, they began the dance they most enjoyed.

Tongues dancing, exploring each other, Severus covering Harry with his body, lightly touching skin to skin as he moved his hips against him, undulating in an ancient rhythm. Rolling to the side, his hands slick, Severus' long dexterous fingers slid into Harry, in and out as he prepared Harry to receive him. Grabbing those hands, Harry held his over them as he made Severus coat himself, all the while deeply kissing him with drugged nips of lips and flicking tongue.

Severus pushed him gently back into the soft cradling moss, its heady clean fragrance filling their senses as Severus poised himself over Harry, his eyes boring into his, black to light, their colour hidden in the dark. Harry widened his legs, arching himself as Severus slid inside, the low moan torn from his throat reverberating through Harry, sending long shivers up his spine.

He began to move. Slowly at first, long slow pulls out, then firm strokes in, Harry's heat and uncontrolled groans tempted him to go deeper, faster, each sure stroke bringing them closer and closer to the edge.

The stars moved in the heavens.

Bathed in the soft starlight, their rhythm as primal as the pungent smell of the rich moss softly stroking their skin, Harry and Severus loved under the stars. Harry held onto Severus desperately, each withdrawal a little death, each thrust sending heated shocks throughout his whole body. As Severus increased the pace, increased the depth, his mouth fastened onto Harry's, his tongue mating with him even as he joined and separated their bodies below.

Straining... _Yes_ Deeper... _Oh gods_ Biting... _More... need more_ Faster... _Ahhhh_ Thrust... _Almost there_ Thrust... _Oh yesss_ Thrust... _Oh, don't stop_ Thrust... _YES!_

They strained against each other, shuddering, their pleasure spiralling through them. It was so intense and went on forever. Severus dropped his forehead to Harry's chest, his hips undulating in the involuntary thrusts that milked every ounce of pleasure out of their joining, Harry's hips rising to meet him.

Shuddering once more, they stilled, breath harsh in the silence of the grove.

Severus withdrew, another small death and, muttering their familiar cleaning spell, they wrapped their arms around each other, each pillowing the other's head as they languidly kissed, short nips of lips and tongue, each basking in the soft air liquid on their skins.

_We never did get to drink the wine,_ Harry thought ruefully.

_We'd better things to while our time. Perhaps later, when this place ceases to be novel, we'll have the time for... other pursuits._

_This place will never be ordinary. It already belongs just to us. We'll just have to stop distracting each other long enough to enjoy it differently._

_Leave the wine under the ledge. It will take no harm being here and will give us less to carry the next time. I intend to come here as often as I may._

_We may._

_We may,_ and he gave him one final kiss.

Rolling onto his back, Severus pulled Harry with him, draping him half over him, their legs entwined. With deep steady breaths, he dozed while Harry drew small circles into his silky skin with the tip of one finger, his thoughts running unchecked through his head. He levitated the blanket over them as the night became chill.

Cradled in Severus arms, his eyes growing heavy, Harry's last thought before he joined Severus in sleep was that he finally knew the real definition of satiation.

TBC


	19. All of This Sight, I Can't Believe I Cou

**Bring Me To Life : A Continuation**  
by I Got Tired of Waiting

**Part II : Dearly Departed**  
**All of This Sight, I Can't Believe I Couldn't See**

They buried Harry next to Severus. Eight pall-bearers escorted the plain wooden casket as it floated to the grave site on the flawless spring evening: Ron, Remus, Neville, and Seth on one side, Colin, Sinistra, Altus, and Jonas, the oldest Gryffindor Prefect, on the other.

Arabella, Hermione, Dana, and Althea had done the ritual washing of his body the night before and he'd been anointed more with their tears than with water. They'd dressed him as they'd dressed Severus, the heavy brocaded fabric shimmering black with threads of gold and red, the sleeve cuffs encrusted with tiny rubies set in gold... his formal Gryffindor robes as Head of House. They laid his hands loose at his sides, but didn't even attempt to remove the platinum wedding band from his left hand. They gave up, laughing through their tears, of ever trying to straighten his hair; it was as unruly in death as it had been in life.

Hermione lightly traced the scar on his forehead before placing a gentle kiss on it. Last to leave the cold room, she extinguished the lights before closing the door. The click of the lock was final.

They'd chosen the time again at Ron's insistence. While the rest of the staff suspected, only he and Hermione knew just how often Harry and Severus had come to this spot to watch the sunset and sometimes to make love under the stars. Of how Harry had amused Severus here with his little light tricks and the fireworks of which he was so fond. Of how Harry had been able to sit quietly for hours in the velvety shadows, captivated by the silken tones he loved to just listen to. Of how they'd used the safety of the darkness to gain some measure of the freedom they could never have in the sunlight.

Twilight was their time and Ron was adamant they still have it.

In addition to the family and staff who had been there for Severus, Colin insisted the student body from fourth years on up be allowed to attend... excepting the Gryffindors. They'd insisted all be allowed to attend and, out of respect, Colin could find no objection to it and consented graciously.

He allowed no others, though, and set the tone for his tenure when he'd had the reporters, who'd tried to sneak in, sent back to their editors trussed up with apples in their mouths accompanied by a strong admonishment not to do it again. The apples had been Dana's idea, wicked girl.

And so it was that, as the sun set over the Forbidden Forest, Harry Potter was laid to rest with a huge crowd attending. Presiding over the interment, Colin sent a silent message to Dana that Harry, ever the solitary quiet one, would have been amused and astounded by the crowd.

After sunset, when the stars were first making their appearance, they filled the sky with the explosions of all the fireworks Harry had made but never used. Dragons, stars, streamers, whistlers, unicorns, and showers of sparking fire lit the night. Those at the grave and those standing outside the grove were mesmerized and, for the hour it took to set them all off, they forgot themselves and their grief in the wonder of Harry's talent.

Colin used the dark much as Severus had, to hold his love tight and share with her this piece of himself: the little boy who still believed everything was good and fine simply because he believed it so.

What a magnificent gift Harry had left them.

And then it was over. The crowd dispersed, scattering off to their homes and hearths, each one touched by what had happened this night. None would ever forget.

Colin and Dana and those inside the grove were the last to go. Colin looked around at the few people remaining and allowed himself the luxury of grief here in private with people he'd come to care about. Like Harry, he was especially grateful for Remus and Arabella with their constant presence.

As he and Dana turned, last to go back to the castle, Colin noticed the same workmen, leaning on the same shovels, standing by to finish spading and sealing the grave. They'd seen it all before and they really didn't care that Harry Potter, the greatest wizard of all time, was gone. They only wanted to finish their job and then go into Hogsmeade for some Butterbeer before going home to the Missus for their supper and then, if they were very lucky, a little shag.

Colin Longbottom, Headmaster of Hogwarts, smiled ironically knowing Severus and Harry would have heartily approved.

TBC


	20. Epilogue : Colin and Dana

**Bring Me To Life : A Continuation**  
by I Got Tired of Waiting

**Part III :: Epilogue :: And Lead It Back Home**  
**Colin and Dana**

"I found Severus' notes today about Altus and Althea," Dana said, walking into their bed chamber two weeks after they'd buried Harry. "I must say I _am_ impressed. Severus has their whole life planned up to and including the day his Orrery says we will die." She paused, sitting at the dressing table, pins in her mouth as she pulled her hair down from its complicated up-sweep. "From unnatural causes I might add... I'm sorry to say our demise will be in forty-six years; we'll probably get crushed or something."

Colin watched her from their bed. He so enjoyed her dry humour. Watching her brush her chestnut waist-length hair, he noticed she was beginning to braid it.

_Please, leave it unbraided for now. I like it down._ He looked at her significantly, eyebrows raised.

With smouldering eyes, she got up from the table and sauntered over to the bed. _How long do you think this want is going to last?_

_Does it matter? Who was it that said, We want what we want when we want it?_

She laughed. _I believe I was talking about 'facing' circumstances._

She dropped her robes to the floor slowly, letting her underthings follow until she was clothed only in her skin. Bending ever so slowly, seductively, she stretched out her arm to get her nightdress off the back of the press near the bed.

_Oh gods, you are so... Please, don't put that on. I like it best when you wear... nothing._ His desire pulsed against her in waves. Shivering in anticipation, she climbed into bed and faced him, her hands automatically seeking his arms and chest.

He turned so that he was covering her, his hands braced on either side of her. Taking her lips with his own, his lean body moved slowly over her lush one, her full breasts barely touching his chest, tickling it with taut flesh.

She shivered again at his touch, earning a chuckle from him when she realised he'd just worn his skin as well. _Two can play at this..._

_Oh, please, by all means play..._

So she did. She played him like a Gryffindor playing a Slytherin.

_Oh gods, the things you do to me, woman..._

With Colin wrapped around her like a blanket, Dana took advantage of the quiet night and the soft sounds of his breathing to just think, a novel experience considering the last couple of weeks. Barely accustomed to this mind-speaking, she suspected it would take them many years to equal Harry and Severus' prowess with double-speaking; so far they could only accomplish one or the other. Still, it was thrilling to have Colin in her mind, especially when they...

Colin stirred, snuggling closer. _I probably shouldn't be thinking about that; all it takes is one misplaced thought and then..._ He stirred again, his lips nuzzling her neck absently, sending ripples down her spine. She held her breath as he went back to sleep.

_Oh goddess, when will this want end?_

They'd always had a healthy intimacy, but this? This was unbelievable. This want. Constantly wanting. She knew it was the castle's influence on their bond. _We're randier now than when we were first joined and that had been horribly embarrassing._

Thinking back on the last twenty-five years in the castle, she realised she'd never seen Harry and Severus exchange an intimacy, small or large, in public... until that one amazing kiss they'd shared on the stage at the party, the one that had her gripping Colin's arm hard, trying to stem the wanting ache. Their fervour had mirrored her own and, with mounting respect for their prior restraint, it dawned on her that theirs had probably always been so, just better hidden. _Not surprising,_ she thought, _what with the on-going public censure of their relationship and the closeness with which they were watched. Bloody unfair, if you ask me._

How had they borne it? _All in private, then? They saved it all for when alone? Or perhaps with a few close friends? Goddess, what torture they must have gone through. What sweet torture. This isn't something to which one grows accustomed, it's too... fresh... every time._

_Maybe that's where the mind-speaking helps. Control. Maybe there's more to it than just words. Maybe feelings, too? Touch? This is something I must explore. I know I can feel Colin wherever he is... but to touch him with my mind? How lovely would that be?_

_No wonder they wanted to retire. How they must have wanted to escape the control, to stop hiding their affections. Will we want this as well? Will we be willing to risk everything for freedom?_ She shuddered, saddened she'd not known them better in life.

At a sudden rustling noise, she turned her head. Bright eyes peered at her in the dark. _Fawkes._

It was inevitable. The Headmaster of Hogwarts always had Fawkes. _But does she have to live here? Why not his office, like all the other headmasters? Why Colin? Bloody bird's always staring at me... us... him._

She squinted in the dark. _I'm picturing you as a feather duster, you know._ Fawkes ruffled her wings and squawked at her. _A bright green feather duster. I'll do the books, first,_ she thought with relish... Until she remembered how Fawkes had first come to them. Shivering at the memory, she suddenly didn't care if the bird was there or not, just as long as Colin was.

Fawkes cheeped and closed her eyes.

The day after Severus' death, while Colin wrote Owls for the funeral, Fawkes flew into their chambers through an open window. Landing daintily on Colin's desk, her gilt-edged black feathers glinting in the afternoon sun, she stared at him with tilted head and then flew off. With a heavy sigh, he'd set his quill on the blotter and, holding his hand out to her, explained, "Fawkes requests my presence in the infirmary." He hesitated, then added, "Would you join me?"

How could she refuse? When they arrived, Seth awaited them with Ron and Hermione and led them quietly past the private room Harry occupied to a side room she'd never seen before. The room's chill assailed them, making gooseflesh stipple their skin. Once she saw the room's occupant, she understood why it was so cold. Severus lay in state, his face relaxed, looking younger than he any right to be.

She wondered who had prepared his body.

Wearing his formal Slytherin robes as Head of House, the threads of silver and green ran shimmering through a heavy black brocade fabric. Peeping out of the sleeves' cuffs encrusted with tiny emeralds set in platinum, his hands rested loosely at his sides, the ornate marriage band still borne by his left hand. His silver hair had been brushed and flowed freely across the bed, the cold spell making the ends waft slightly. He appeared asleep, like he would wake at any moment, and she fully understood why they kept Harry out of this room.

It would kill him.

Fawkes winged in behind them and landed neatly on Severus' chest. She spread her wings like a hug across his shoulders, her face rubbing his cheek. With a great cry, she lifted her head to the heavens and let loose a song, a song they'd all heard before, the song Harry had composed for Severus for their anniversary. As Fawkes wasn't limited to the single notes of most creatures, her voice wove the subtle harmonies Harry had created to honour his subtle husband.

At the song's end, the last note fading, Fawkes immolated. A few heartbeats later, a tiny head poked out of the ashes. Rapidly growing until full-grown, a smallish Phoenix coloured a vibrant iridescent green with gold markings emerged. She took wing from the ashes and settled on Colin's shoulder, rubbing her cheek against his.

She was still on Colin's shoulder when they turned to leave after paying their respects to Severus. Still rubbing her cheek on his when they re-entered the infirmary and started the return trip to their rooms, Ron and Hermione behind them.

Dana felt an irrational surge of jealousy at the sight.

Catching her emotion, Colin thought, _I have Fawkes, you have the castle. Seems equitable to me. I'll ask her not to bite you and you can ask the castle to stop moving my things around. Deal?_

_Deal... although I can't help thinking you're getting the better end of the bargain._

_I can't imagine why._ They smiled at each other in a private way.

Ron leant over to Hermione and whispered in her ear, "They're doing it again."

She smiled softly at him. "So I noticed."

TBC


	21. Epilogue : Remus and Arabella

**Bring Me To Life : A Continuation**  
by I Got Tired of Waiting

**Part III :: Epilogue :: And Lead It Back Home**  
**Remus and Arabella**

Remus sighed with resignation. He couldn't back out no matter how much he wanted to; the students were all assembled. Looking over the crowd, he reflected again how much everything had changed since his own school days. Over two thousand strong, the students nearly filled the much-enlarged Great Hall which, for this special event, had been tweaked so it was less a flat room and more like a bowl with seats surrounding a slightly raised centre stage.

They'd reversed the order of the seating as well, giving the staff the first rows followed by the oldest students ranked by year until the youngest primaries were ringing the top rows furthest away. There were no reporters, no townsfolk, no other distinguished guests in attendance; there would be time enough for the others to see what they would this day.

When everyone quieted, Colin and Remus stood alone on the platform, Remus holding a single roll of parchment loosely in his hand. Colin waited them out until absolute silence ruled the room. He whispered _"Sonorous"_ and began to speak. "We're here to celebrate the lives of Severus Snape-Potter and his husband Harry James Snape-Potter, both of whom gave long service... and their lives to this school."

He waited for the murmuring to die down; he'd expected the comments when he'd used their full-names. _To hell with their sensibilities,_ he thought, _I'll do as I please. And that pleased me._

When silence once again reigned, he continued. "I'd prepared a tribute in their honour, but I know that if I did, Harry would be yawning and Severus would be heckling, so I have decided not to burden you with my eloquence." He waited for the chuckles to subside.

"The day after Severus died, Harry came to my office and left this parchment. No one knows when or how he made it, but it was clearly marked as _their_ last statement... together."

And clearly marked as someone else's burden, for which he gave daily thanks.

"The parchment's seal is most important and, if you have a chance to see it, I suggest you take to heart its many meanings." He cleared his throat, the low sound reverberating through the room.

"It means loyalty. It means giving your utmost when facing any enemy. It means devotion. It means love." He swallowed against the tightness in his throat. "It shows that the future is guided by the past. It shows that two people, when faced with impossible odds can make a difference, can change the world as we know it. It shows that love can conquer... anything. It shows us that love is... everything."

He held them all with a challenging gaze and then, hanging his head, waved his hand to end the speaking spell. Looking at his feet, he quietly walked off the stage and joined Dana in the front row.

Alone, Remus dropped the parchment to the centre of the stage's floor. Holding his wand steady, he traced a circle in the air, saying, _"Aperio!"_ and quickly walked off the dais to sit next to Arabella. She squeezed his hand in support.

The parchment unrolled, sending sparks flying in the air until it lay flat on the stage. From the centre rose a plinth with a column bearing a globe of Mage glass. As Colin and Dana were the only ones who knew its origin, they kept silent, wondering what Harry was about. The globe glowed brightly and, one after another, dazzling images coalesced above its glass surface. Hanging in the air a few heartbeats before rising, they exploded into a shower of sparkling fireworks as they touched the vaulted ceiling. The unnatural silence, broken only by the sharp crackling retorts as each picture disintegrated, made the whole work eerie and surreal.

A very young Ron, Hermione, Draco, and Harry at school... their arms around each other, the happy smiles on their faces only available to the young...

Hagrid with his Wyvern nipping Draco... Ron, Hermione, and Harry laughing in the background...

Snape, with a slimy green potion dripping off his nose while Ron and Harry laughed bent double in the background, the potion all over the walls...

Albus Dumbledore, his sharp blue eyes twinkling over his half-moon spectacles gleaming in the candlelight, giving one of his beginning of the school year speeches, Severus looking dour at his side...

Harry and Severus at their wedding... their hands entwined, their eyes smouldering...

Hermione, roundly pregnant with their fourth child, Draco, his arm around her protectively, and Severus sitting at a table their heads together talking intensely, arms waving in the air as they argued...

Arthur Weasley speaking at a podium in front of an indignant crowd, Severus' thundering anger visible only through his narrowed eyes...

Severus binding The Trio with their Witnesses... the new pattern gleaming fire around their joined right arms...

The Trio's first dance together, Molly covering the children's eyes, Severus looking hungrily at Harry in the background...

Severus dancing gracefully with Harry, the world around them forgotten, both bodies as one...

Severus and Harry, looks of happy concentration on their faces as they raised the bower in the grove, the sun shining brightly on their bare chests...

Severus and Harry walking down the hall side by side, their robes sweeping out around them, purpose and power in their strides...

Remus and Harry showing students how to duel with their wands and swords...

A delighted Severus twirling Lenore around in circles high up in the air, staggering dizzily as he put her down, his face happy, convulsed in laughter as she knocked him over, tickling him mercilessly...

Harry flying on his broom, trying to knock Draco off his, a harmless contest of convulsive laughter and exceptional skill...

Harry and Severus, sitting by a fire in their library, his back against an old wing-backed chair, Severus reading from a book, his arm around Harry, idly stroking his arm, Harry snuggled into his shoulder, just listening, his eyes closed, his hand on Severus thigh...

The globe glowed white. The images rising from it were different from the ones before it in that they were fixed, they didn't rise into the air. Excitement ran through the crowd as they realised they were about to see one of Harry's legendary moving memories. He'd rarely published them.

The images finalised into two people, one standing in front of the other, a few feet of air between them, both facing the same direction, their arms held loose at their sides. They were wearing black T-shirts and loose black trousers tapering down to soft black quilted boots, the kind worn by dancers when rehearsing.

It was Harry and Severus.

Their hair was what captured Hermione's attention. Both bore dark hair with only a sprinkling of the silver that would in later years become their trademark. Harry's hair was longer, too, almost to mid-back and with a gasp, she remembered this time, fifty years ago, when they'd trained with Draco in the mornings.

Without a sound, the figures began to move, the fluid movements identical. It was like watching one body. Bend, stretch, sweep, slide, step, and again... each time adding more motions until their complicated dance, each cycle more complex, was pure poetry. Faster and faster they moved, the honed bodies shifting gracefully as one.

It was like watching water flow. It was their normal morning routine.

Without breaking their unison or their speed, they separated until they were standing side by side, the idea of a dance stronger now that their separate motions could be seen. They then shifted again through another cycle until they were facing each other, their routine now mirrored.

They continued for one more cycle when--

--swords appeared in their hands. Never changing the movements from before, the audience could now see that the dance fit the motions of the swords--clashing, slashing, arcing, blocking, sweeping--faster and faster until the blades blurred into flashes of light.

And then they abruptly stopped, the swords crossed in a perfect 'X'. Facing each other, sweat covered their bodies, darkening their shirts as their chests heaved heavily as one.

Severus gave Harry a feral grin. Harry returned it, throwing his head back, exposing his throat. As he lowered it, they glanced to the side and a third person joined them, his long white hair loose. He was dressed similarly and carried an identical sword. The three bowed to each other and--

--they crouched, serious, the grins gone, concentration etched on their faces. Daggers came out of hidden pockets into empty hands. They circled each other.

With a lunge, Draco made the first attack against Harry and Severus, his blades fully engaging them. Metal blurred as each parried and blocked and returned the advance in full measure. And then they returned to circling each other, their shirts sliced in several places, blood leaking out of a small cut on Harry's cheek. They were starting to breathe hard--

--they attacked again, Draco and Severus against Harry. The blades again flashing, but Harry was fast and parried each and every blow, able to defend himself... and more. He nicked Draco in the chest and left a long shallow cut down Severus' side. They stopped suddenly, Harry's sword at Draco's throat, Severus' dagger at Harry's back. They looked at each other, relaxed and started laughing--

--Until Severus went on the offensive. Against Draco and Harry. A few moments later, it was obvious Severus had been toying with the two younger men, saving his effort. Switching sword and dagger from hand to hand at will, his hands and body faster than thought, he not only defended himself, but left the other two gasping, small cuts leaking blood in several places.

After a short while it was over, Severus' dagger at Draco's heart, his sword about to cut off Harry's head.

The three of them eyed each other for a few moments and then with rueful grins, the two younger men stepped back, bowed to the master, and handed him their daggers, handle first. He took them and tucked them into pockets in his trousers and then the three of them laughed, dropping to the floor, their chests heaving.

The picture faded, leaving the glowing globe blank.

The audience breathed again and the respect they'd borne for their former Headmaster and Harry ran deeper than before. Both thrilling and scary, this was fighting none of the students had ever seen and most were keen to learn.

Remus grinned and said, "I guess, my class is going to be a bit more popular than before."

Arabella chuckled at the mental image of Remus teaching the older ones the fighting techniques he and Severus had developed, Remus being the only one who could best him. "Until they kill you, that is."

Hermione and Ron stared at each other. They'd known the morning training was rigorous... "Draco must have healed himself before coming home," he whispered to her. Since they'd never seen any injuries, she nodded in agreement, disturbed by what she'd seen. However, it had been necessary, very necessary, the tiny wounds the least of their worries. They both remembered times when that training had saved Draco's life. More than anything, it hadn't been about the fighting, but about concentration, conditioning, and reflexes.

The globe resumed its prior appearance. Almost an anticlimax, the pictures from before resumed their tidy chronological order.

Severus binding Colin and Dana, their eyes locked on each other, the leashed passion evident only in their smouldering eyes. The regret shining in his eyes even as he smiled, Harry standing in the back with Ron and Hermione, Ginny and Neville.

Severus and Draco standing alert in the dungeons, watching Harry, his hands and face glowing with his full power as he wove them around a globe on the table...

Draco's funeral... Ron holding Hermione while she cried. Severus' head bowed, his hand holding Harry's tightly...

Harry, somewhere, in some town, Sirius supporting him as they stumbled down a wide stone hall...

Severus, the fatigue and deep worry etched in his face, holding an exhausted Harry across his lap in a large chair by a roaring fire, Harry's sleeping face curled up in his shoulder, a small smile of contentment on his lips...

Seth and Lenore's wedding... Severus and Harry, their hands on the bound hands of their children, beaming at them, the tears standing unshed in Severus' eyes...

Harry with his Potions class, an admiring Severus standing at the door unseen...

An older Severus greeting the first years before taking them to the Sorting Hat, his face stern, theirs terrified, while an older Harry stood behind them covering his grin with his hand, his eyes dancing...

Severus and Harry in the grove, shooting off fireworks, the delight in Severus' eyes like that of a little child...

A town meeting with Severus speaking to the townsfolk, Harry in the background eyeing him, hidden as usual...

Severus and Harry embracing in the ocean at sunset, only the silhouette of the passionate kiss visible...

Severus standing still, trusting, while Harry danced lightning around him...

Harry in his workroom his hands on both sides of Severus' head, the thin strands clinging to his hands like gossamer webs as he lifted them free and transferred them--the thoughts and memories retrieved--to the film in the centre of a glowing circle in the middle of his worktable...

Severus and Harry last winter having a snowball fight with Ron and Hermione, laughing outrageously, the cold making their cheeks rosy, the few students there for the holidays watching from the windows, incredulous, but smiling...

Severus shooting off champagne corks, his eyes dancing, his face triumphant, while Harry dodged out of the way...

Harry and Severus in the public embrace none of the adults would ever forget. It hung there for the endless moments it took to cycle once--

--the picture faded to be replaced by their private seal; lion and snake.

Severus saying, "I am here."

Harry repeating, "I am here."

In unison, "We are together."

And the whole display, plinth, column, globe, and seal exploded upward, sending glittering sparks into the air that rained down over the entire audience, filling the air with a memory of the sweet pungent smell of fresh damp moss after a spring rain.

Breathing in deeply the remembered scent, Ron, Hermione, and Seth's spirits lifted; this last gift from Harry would be forever cherished.

The parchment stood alone in the middle of the stage. Remus rose shakily, not seeing the crowd of quiet people, lost in their own thoughts, the images still running through their heads. He knew how they felt. While it had affected him deeply the first viewing, the second was somehow worse, even knowing what was to follow. There was a hole in his heart where they'd once been; suddenly the centuries stretching before him filled it with a deep sense of dread and he wept.

Climbing the stairs to the top of the stage, he pulled his wand and, reversing the direction of the circle he'd made before, said, _"Signum."_ The parchment obediently rolled and levitated to his waiting hand. He regarded it a moment and then, hanging his head, he walked off the stage, Arabella joining him at the bottom of the stairs. Together they walked out the room, half-hating, half-loving the legacy Harry and Severus had left them.

TBC


	22. Epilogue : Ron and Hermione

**Bring Me To Life : A Continuation**  
by I Got Tired of Waiting

**Part III :: Epilogue :: And Lead It Back Home**  
**Ron and Hermione**

Glad to be home, Ron and Hermione lounged on their favourite sofa by the fire, their feet propped up on ancient poufs, hot cups of tea in their hands. From the moment they'd arrived, some of the heaviness left them like tension eased by a hot bath.

Settling deeper in the cushions, Ron glanced at Hermione. "Colin surprised me a bit, he was less... humourless than I expected."

Hermione chuckled before answering, "Oh, I'm certain the castle won't let him be too staid. Remember what happened to Severus the first few years?"

"Yeah, who could forget Severus waking up in his bed on the roof."

"Or the three broken noses when he collided with all the walls the castle erected. You remember how he walked."

"Remember how Harry's eyes would gleam whenever he watched Severus walk?"

Hermione chuckled at the memory; she could hardly forget the sensual stride herself. While they silently missed their friends, the sorrow still fresh, still raw, it wasn't the only thing they remembered; they still had unfinished business of their own and the previous week had left them with other things to think about.

Ron sat on the edge of the bed waiting impatiently. He didn't want to be here, but Hermione, sitting placidly in the chair by the fire, had insisted. And as usual, she got her way. He'd never been able to resist her; why should he start now?

He knew why he was here, the reason he didn't want to be was because he already knew the answers to the questions Hermione wanted answered. And he knew they weren't good.

Ron was ill and had been for quite some time. He didn't know why this should come as such a surprise to Hermione, but it had. He thought she forgot sometimes that they were 127 years old. Old was old and the ending of life was a bit easier to take now than it would have been years ago, so he really didn't understand why she was getting so upset about it.

A few years back, he'd had a couple of bad turns, the pain eating his insides. He'd ended up in the infirmary here where Seth took care of him. Seth had told him he could try to cure it and using magic and potions he'd made it go away.

Harry and Severus had stayed with him while Seth worked his wonders. With their biting humour and incessant bickering, they'd distracted him from the bitter potions, the agony as the spells ate away at the thing trying to devour him. He sometimes felt like a Ron Smorgasbord with an all-you can-eat-sign hanging off his chest.

Cancer, Seth had said, the Muggles call it cancer. And it was gone.

Then two years ago, he'd been with Harry in Diagon Alley looking for a gift for Hermione for her birthday. She'd always insisted she was too old for birthdays, carrying on so much that one year he'd decided to skip it. He would never, ever, repeat that mistake again. They'd been in a Goblin gem shop looking at some pretty stone rings when the pain had hit him.

Doubling over, he would have fallen had Harry not caught him. Harry got them out of there quickly and once out in the street, with a surge of raw power, managed to Apparate the two of them straight into the infirmary at Hogwarts.

Ron was amazed through his pain and Harry, smiling ruefully, had said, "It's not impossible to do, just difficult. Besides, the castle likes me better." Ron chuckled appreciatively and then choked as a fresh wave struck him.

Severus had come down, demanding to know what had happened; the Wards had been rippled and he'd such a headache from repairing them and... He stopped when he saw a pained Ron and an apologetic Harry. With no one else around, he nodded and touched Harry's cheek, saying something to him Ron couldn't hear because it was inside them. He then gently kissed Harry and strode back out the room, his robes billowing behind him. Intently watching his retreat, Harry sighed and turned to Ron, saying it was his one weakness.

Seth had examined him, giving him the verdict he was dreading. It was back, worse than before.

"Dad, you need to retire and take it easy. You'll heal faster and have a better chance of remission if you'll just slow down. I love you; however, you're not a young man, slow down... I'd like you to be around for a long time more."

So he'd slowed down, but despite Hermione nagging him, he didn't quit. And the pain went away as did the illness.

Now he was here. Easily ignored most of the time, the pain this time wasn't as sharp, but it was persistent. And growing. Hermione was certain it was back and, truth be told, so did he. Only what he wasn't telling her was that he thought this was the last time he would be suffering from it.

Seth returned to the room. Hermione was half out of her chair when he motioned her to sit back down.

"Mum, Dad. I'm so sorry. It's quietly spread to a point where I'm not certain I can heal it. I can give you a different regimen of potions that may kill it... or not. I don't know; we can only try. But I have others I want to give you that will, at the very least, mitigate the pain."

The three of them had held each other for a long while, Hermione surprisingly dry-eyed. Ron supposed that with the double funerals and the Memorial Services, she was all cried out. And under normal circumstances, he might have been right--to a certain extent. Hermione _was_ cried out, but she was also madder than hell.

"I'm thinking," Hermione said, unconsciously using Harry's turn of phrase, "Colin and Dana will do well. I suspect they'll adopt the entire school as their family. He's so organized, she's such a softy under that serene exterior and with no children of their own... she'll do well with the younger ones. They start so young now at six."

"Well, it was necessary, as was continuing the students there until after University. All the schools had to change. It was a sad day they closed Oxford. I miss that old place, but we could no longer stay there with all the protests and such. Severus planned Hogwarts' expansion well."

"Speaking of plans, when are you retiring?" Hermione asked with deceptive mildness.

Not fooled for an instant, Ron replied, "Well, with the Wards in place, and people being more careful in their travels, we're less busy. All our efforts recently have been focused on making certain the Muggle technology doesn't find a way to penetrate the Wards; we're continuously developing new techniques to spy on them without getting caught. I should be able to step down soon. Which is fine by me; I'm so very tired of it all."

"Set a day," Hermione said.

"It's not that simple, love. It will take a while to train a replacement, then there's the--"

"Ronald Malfoy-Granger-Weasley..." Hermione warned, her eyes narrowed dangerously.

The fierceness filling her face put him to mind of a day when she'd kneed Seamus in the balls. Ron was rather fond of his balls and had it on recent good authority that Hermione was, too; however, he wasn't sufficiently convinced _at this particular moment_ to risk that she was as fond of them now as she once had been; she'd used his full name... _Ouch!_

"Yes, dear?" he asked innocently.

She looked ready to kill. _There goes my balls,_ he thought.

"Ron, If I Have To Go Through One More... Turn... With You I Swear I Will Use Your Guts For Garters!"

_My, she's really upset. She's magnificent when she's upset... unless of course, she's upset with me._

"Oh, well there is that, I guess."

She suddenly lost steam, deflating like a toy balloon. "Ron," she said quietly, "Please! The longer you go, the faster this will... take you. You heard Seth. If you don't stop soon, you're going to kill yourself... Please, please... don't... Please... just... leave."

He heard missing words in her statement. _Ah-ha. Maybe I'm finally going to find out what the problem really is._

"Can I do that? Can I just walk away, leave the whole division in turmoil because I've been sick, because I don't want to do it anymore? What are the consequences? What happens if something happens I should have been there to prevent and people die? Can I _do_ that? Do you really _want_ me to?" he asked with some heat. He regretted what he'd said, but so often she sat on those things eating her from the inside; sometimes their arguments were the _only_ way he could get her to loose those things so he could understand on the outside.

Her glare would melt metal, let alone his heart. "Yes, you can. You've already trained them. They're ready to take over. Marcus says that after... how close you came to... they've been begging you to retire for months. Bah! You're the one who can't let go."

_There's those missing words, again._ He said tiredly, "It's my... life... Hermione. I have so many years invested... it's just so hard."

Angrily, she retorted, "It's not just your life. It's _mine,_ too. What about _my_ investment... our investment. Damn it, Ron, haven't you figured it out yet. You're everything to me. You're all I have left. If you go... " she finished on a whisper.

"If I go..." he prompted gently.

In a small voice, she cried, "I'll be... alone. I don't want to be alone. Oh gods, it was so hard to lose half my soul when Draco died. How can I ever go on if you take the other half? There won't be anything left for me." She started crying, her face buried in her hands.

He held her shaking body as she sobbed, his mind in a whirl. Afraid? His Hermione was afraid? He'd _never_ seen her this way. She was always the strong one, always the fierce one. He was the one with all the secret inner fears he never let out. It rocked him. She needed _him_ to take away _her_ fear? How?

Then he remembered the note... something Harry had said. _Damn it! Why can't I remember things like Hermione or Severus? Severus? That's it!_ He closed his eyes, resting his head on Hermione's and concentrated. _...he's started to bring me home..._ Bring him home? Bring _her_ home? Then he realised what it meant... what he could do to assuage her fears.

"Hermione? You're right. I'm not the only one in this relationship. I'm sorry... I didn't mean to cause you any distress. I'll go there tomorrow and tender my immediate resignation."

This didn't get the desired result. If anything, she started crying harder. "Hermione, hush," he said rocking her. "Please, Hermione, it's important. I need you to listen to me."

He could feel her trying to get it under control and continued holding her tight. "Hermione, I'm scared, too. I don't know any more than you what to expect and I admit, I've been more worried about what will happen to _me_ rather than you and for that... I am sorry. I never meant to hurt you. Please stop crying; you know I can't stand to see you cry. I love you."

She sniffled and rubbed her face in his robes like a little girl.

"Other than knowing I'm going to die--sooner than later, it seems--the only thing I'm reasonably certain of is that there's no underworld to worry about and all I have for proof is a letter from a dead man. Even Witches Weekly wasn't interested!" He felt her smile... just a bit. "I don't have many answers, but Dana had it right: we face what we face when we face it."

Hermione hiccupped. "We're such Gryffindors aren't we?"

They laughed precariously.

Rubbing her back, Ron racked his brains for the right way to express what he wanted to say. He played the scene in his mind a few times to ensure he had it just right; he'd only get one chance. He took a deep breath before speaking. "Hermione? Severus came for Harry, right?"

She nodded looking down.

"And we share the same bonds they do, right?"

She raised her face, her eyes questioning.

"And I've never broken a promise, have I?"

Shaking her head, she lowered it again and murmured, "No, you've never broken a promise to me. Or to Draco, or anyone else."

He lifted her face and, cupping her cheek, he kissed her tenderly, his lips lingering. "Look at me," he commanded gently.

Anxious brown eyes met calm, resolved blue eyes.

"I promise..." He put his face close to hers and breathed into her lips, "I'll come for you..." A gentle touch down her cheek. "I'll bring you home..." A tendril of hair gently moved from her face. "Just like Severus did for Harry. All right?"

She nodded and they sealed their new covenant with a kiss.

TBC


	23. Epilogue : Seth and Lenore

**Bring Me To Life : A Continuation**  
by I Got Tired of Waiting

**Part III :: Epilogue :: And Lead It Back Home**  
**Seth and Lenore : Colin and Dana**

Three weeks after his last visit, Seth slowly made his way into the grove. He'd been avoiding it since Harry had been buried, not certain he could talk to Lenore the way he normally did with his godfathers present as well. Stupid really, but there it was.

But he was lonely and heart-sore. Losing Lenore had left an empty space inside him he'd tried to fill by keeping busy; coming out here every day to talk with her had made it just bearable. With Harry and Severus gone as well and with the veritable death sentence he'd given his father, the portrait of his devastation was almost complete.

He approached the bower, a part of the grove he normally avoided; he couldn't see it without his mind flooding with the memories they'd had there. But today the torture seemed fitting. He removed his shoes and climbed onto the sweet soft surface. He sat down, running his hands over the velvet and remembered.

Lenore's burning sweet kisses, the passion they'd ignite with just their eyes... The fullness of her breasts grazing his skin as she trailed fire across his body with wet hot nips of her mouth while the moss underneath him tickled his back...

The incredible responsiveness of her body rising to meet him, her soft cries of pleasure as he moved over her, through her, in her... His own gasps as her ardour drove him to the edge. Lenore's face, filled with sweet concentration as she reached her fulfilment, the heady smell of the moss filling his senses as he reached his own pinnacle... The soft rapture afterwards, feeling the sun warm their entwined bodies, the breeze caressing...

She'd been as honest in her loving as she'd been about everything else in her life. They'd talk for hours here, sometimes about them, sometimes about unimportant things, sometimes about Harry and Severus. He'd always been amazed she had no qualms, no shame about her fathers, hidden or otherwise. She'd loved them and their unusual union didn't seem strange to her; they loved each other, it was proper they be together.

He'd learned to see them through her eyes long before they'd ever married. When she'd been a child, he'd watch her staunchly defend them, ignoring the taunts as irrelevant. When he'd mentioned the incidents he'd seen to Harry, he'd shrugged and said they were aware of them, but if it didn't bother Lenore, why should it bother them?

He'd always admired them, their devotion to each other, not really fooled by their banter and insults to each other. When Lenore was added to their family, Severus especially changed, making him more reachable yet oddly vulnerable. As she'd grown older, her views of them influenced him further and he grew to love them almost as much as she. They'd been his second family.

He'd been an idiot to wait as long as he had, to not _see_ her; he'd not been surprised when Severus had heartily agreed with him when he'd said as much. Harry had just looked at him in that calm manner he had, telling him to savour every moment, regardless of its place in time. Thinking back on it, he'd realised early on in their marriage that Severus and Harry had been plotting for years to get them together. It was just one more thing to love about them.

And now they were all gone.

Leaving the bower, he put his shoes back on and walked hesitantly over to the three graves. The raw earth covering the two newest ones offended him and so, as he'd done to Lenore's grave the first time he'd visited, he settled on his haunches, placing his hands over the bare earth while whispering, _"Natus."_

Immediately, the surrounding grass began to creep up over the edges until they were clothed in verdant green. It seemed more... modest this way. He knew the flowers would follow in a few days; they just took longer to grow from the seed.

He moved over to Lenore's grave and sat down, his back against the small headstone. This was how he always sat when he came to talk to her and, if he was very lucky, he could almost catch sight of her when the willows filtered the rays of the setting sun through their wispy boughs.

He remembered her last days. There'd been no warning. She'd just been... sick. He and his staff had done everything they could; they never did find out what was wrong, their best efforts finally centred on making her comfortable. She'd eaten little, slept even less, and at the end had just faded away.

Severus had handed the school over to Colin the two months she'd been ill. He and Harry stayed with her as much as she wanted, which was often. He'd aged as she grew weaker, his humour and banter growing more forced as time went by. Harry stood by his side, seemingly unaffected, but Seth had seen the private times when Severus had held him while he cried.

They'd brought her out here to the grove a few times so she could feel the sun, the last time only days before she died. Severus and Harry had stayed a while, but soon left so _they_ could be private. It was the last time they'd been here until brought by others the final time.

He'd held her gently and they talked little, each knowing it wouldn't be long now. When he'd brought her back asleep, she never woke again. Two days later, she was gone.

Severus and Harry were devastated. He'd been numb. Ever present, his parents had stayed at the castle for a while to help them all through the first weeks of their grief. It was his dad, of all people, who'd suggested he come here to talk to her. He said he still went occasionally to Draco's grave and found comfort when he did.

So he came here. And he found the same comfort. He knew the conversations were all in his head, were just his thoughts, but it helped sometimes to see things through her perspective and he always returned feeling better than when he'd arrived.

He hoped to feel that way today as well.

"Hello, love," he said simply, unashamed with talking to her aloud.

He waited; there was no reply.

He tried again. "Lenore? Lenore, love, there has been so much happening... Please, I need to talk to you."

He waited. "Please, Lenore, answer me. Don't leave me here alone."

With dismal recognition, he realised she would never again answer him in this place and in the depths of his heart he knew true despair. He rolled to his side on the grave and wept. Digging his hands into the grass and the soil under it, he cried out his pain into the ground. He lay there for quite some time, the grass absorbing his bitter tears. Eventually, he fell asleep.

And he dreamed. He dreamed she was in his arms, her silky kisses--never to be missed--on his lips, her arms wrapped tightly around him; her love surrounded him like an old favourite blanket on a cold winter's day. And it melted, the frost in which he'd encased his heart when awake was gone. Lenore was here and he never intended to let her go.

Colin was having the strangest dream. He was walking towards the grove with Harry, only Harry wasn't dead, he was young. There was an exuberance about him Colin knew had been there once, but had been tempered out of him by the time he'd got to know him. He liked this young man.

"So you see, we made the bower for privacy," he was saying, his eyes alight. "We had so much fun making it, and using it, and sharing it with others. It's important you understand it's yours and Dana's now."

"That would be just a bit macabre, don't you think, with the three of you already in there?" This whole conversation was surreal.

"Move us. I assure you we don't care."

Colin laughed. That was probably true.

As they were about to enter the bower, Harry stopped, suddenly urgent. "I've not much time. It was wonderful to see you again, but I must go back soon, and I've yet to prepare you for what's inside."

"There's more in there now than there was three weeks ago?" Colin asked drolly.

His face earnest, Harry replied, "It's Seth. He joined Lenore this evening and crossed over. Most unusual, but he'd lost his will to live. I was sent to inform you he was here, so his shell could be removed with dignity."

Colin was at a loss for words. So many people gone. He felt uncharacteristically lonely and fervently wished Dana was here with him.

"I have one more message. Move us, Colin; the sentiment burying us all here was misplaced. The time away from the grove after Lenore died injured us in ways we could never have foreseen. We should not have placed her here."

"Where? Where would you rather be? Why now? Why not earlier?" Colin asked reasonably.

"The castle. We should be in the castle. We didn't understand until after we were gone that we were never meant to leave. Bury us in the dungeon... there's a crypt... ask Dana to find it for you. We buried Albus there along with all the other headmasters and their families. I don't know why we thought we would be any different, but that's another story. Put all four of us there, put the whole world there for all it matters, but cleanse this place of our presence. Make it habitable for the living again."

They stepped into the grove. "Albus built this place for us long before Severus and I met, before we were even born. Somehow he knew we would be together, knew we would need someplace private..." He stopped and chuckled. "Although the old bugger still won't admit he planned how we got together."

He placed his hand on Colin's arm. "This is a place of life, of celebration, of quiet private loving, of escape from the prying eyes of the castle. Use it as it was intended. Spend some of your love and passion out here. Make this yours and Dana's special place. Please... for me... for Severus... for all of us who claimed this place and made it sanctuary. I promise... you will never regret it."

And he was gone.

Colin woke with a start. It had only been a dream. Then he saw a willow branch on the table by his bed, and he wondered. Knowing he'd be unable to go to sleep until he verified things, he climbed out of bed and donned his dressing gown over his pyjamas. Feeling rather silly, he strolled out of the castle in his slippers down to the grove, the moon and stars lighting his way.

The place was eerily quiet. Feeling like an interloper, he walked into the centre. He toed off his slippers and stepped into the middle of the bower. A feeling of peace like he'd never known before stole over him as his toes sank into the damp moss. He remembered the smell of it from Harry's and Severus' Remembrance, the aroma meaning nothing to him at the time, but bringing with it now his own share of memories of the times he'd spent with them.

With an effort, he pulled his awareness back into the present and looked around him. Off to the side, just as Harry had said, Seth lay on Lenore's grave, the full moon lighting the small smile on his face.

While saddened with Seth's passing, Colin was more pleased that Seth was finally home.

Over the course of the next week, Colin once again presided over four funerals, one for Seth plus three relocation ceremonies held in private in the crypt of the castle.

Once Dana had spoken to the castle, they'd beheld with awe the final resting place of the Headmasters of Hogwarts. He didn't quite know what they'd been expecting, but this austere chamber with its twisted columns and vaulting arched ceiling, dappled with sunlight from hidden sources, wasn't at all the creepy place they'd imagined.

Each resting place was marked by a simple square of gold set into the stone. Standing on any plaque allowed one to experience the essence of the person buried beneath. Intrigued, he'd stepped on Albus Dumbledore's and was shocked when he felt merry and wicked and sage at the same time. Jumping off quickly, he began to understand why Harry and Severus always called him 'the old bugger'.

Colin decided he wouldn't mind being buried here himself and shared a laugh with Dana when she pointed out his acceptance was timely as he'd no choice in the matter.

There'd been a 'discussion' over Seth and Lenore. Colin thought they should be buried with Severus and Harry since Lenore was their daughter; tradition dictated she be buried with her spouse. Ron and Hermione, overwhelmed by everything happening in the last month, had maintained they wanted them buried with Draco. It was Dana's great-grandmother, Daisy, who suggested the final solution: move Draco. When Ron and Hermione expressed their pleasure with the compromise, and Dana said the castle had no objections, Colin agreed and arrangements were made to bring him here in a few weeks.

The next day, they'd all come to Hogwarts to bury Severus and Harry along with Seth and Lenore. Dana stood at their resting places and uttered the spell the castle had taught her. Rumbling contentedly, it opened four rectangular crypts in the floor and the closed wooden caskets were levitated in place. Colin read the interment ritual, feeling easier than he had for weeks; there was a calm about the place which made light the burden.

When the ceremony was done, Fawkes flew into the room, crying out her song, the filtered sunlight making her glow. As she glided over the open crypts, the floor of the castle folded over each one in her wake, encasing them within itself. As she flew by for a second pass, one gold-tipped feather fell on each of the tombs. Four gold markers appeared on each spot where her feathers fell.

The party stood a few moments in wonder and left the room in silence. Colin knew he would come back one day to see what Severus and Harry's markers felt like; it would be interesting to say the least.

The next night, Colin took Dana to the mossy bower in the willow grove down by the lake. And under the moon and the stars, they unequivocally made it _their_ private sanctuary.

TBC


	24. Epilogue : Severus and Harry

**Bring Me To Life : A Continuation**  
by I Got Tired of Waiting

**Part III :: Epilogue :: And Lead It Back Home**  
**Our Ironic Errant Headmaster and His Irrepressible But Sometimes Over-enthusiastic Husband**

o0o

_It was nigh on dusk in their timeless land._

_"Look," Harry cried, looking down at his hands, "I'm young again!"_

_"And you've a problem with this?" They were hand-in-hand, walking down the stone-paved lane to their cottage. The others were waiting for them there._

_A sudden thought occurred to Harry. "Can we still do magic here?" he asked._

_Thoughtful for a moment, Severus slowly answered, "That's probably best answered by Albus, but I think the magic here is all around us rather than within us."_

_"Do I get to keep all the knowledge I have now?" A wicked glance spoke volumes._

_"All our old knowledge, coupled with all this... young energy." Severus chortled, tightening his grip on Harry's hand. "I have plans for you tonight." Their strong fingers entwined._

_Stopping, Harry eyed his husband, remembering him at this age, when they'd first become lovers under the onus of the spell, silently grateful it was gone. His gaze roamed unhurriedly down the lean, lithe body, his deep hunger evident in his half-lidded eyes. "Only tonight?" he asked, licking his lips with the tip of his tongue, making Severus, with a ravenous growl, lean in to taste him. With a gleam in his eye, Harry asked with faux concern, "Are you certain you don't want to go a bit younger?" At the narrowing of Severus' eyes, he continued blithely, "Your poor, blighted back. Ring a bell? I wouldn't want to injure you..."_

_"Impertinent whelp," Severus rumbled, pulling Harry close, his hands exploring anew hard muscle._

_Harry chuckled. "Ignorant prat," he said, his hands sliding down familiar slender hips._

_Daring lips claimed tempting ones. "Blind Seeker."_

_"Professor Snape," was spoken harshly, the wanton hands stroking smooth silky skin._

_"Mr Potter," Severus ground out, their hot, wet tongues stabbing._

_"I am here," purred softly._

_"I am here," said on a whisper._

_We Are Together._

_Lips meshed, their hearts beat as one. Bidding their blood to run..._

_At this rate, we'll never get to the cottage..._

_Just shut up and kiss me._

_The tapping of an impatient foot on the stone pavement... "Do you two mind? You have eternity for that. We have a party to attend!"_

_**"AL-BUS!"**_

o0o

FINIS  
Timeline Follows


	25. Epilogue : And Lead it Back Home

**Bring Me To Life : A Continuation**  
by I Got Tired of Waiting

**Part Done :: Where the Author Again Makes Herself a Nuisance**  
**Story Timeline**

Canon timeline dates are as archived in the Harry Potter Lexicon as of the Goblet of Fire. Items in _italics_ are from "Pledges".

1991  
Harry (11) starts Hogwarts

1998  
_Harry pledges Severus  
Harry (17) and Severus (39) marry  
Voldemort defeated by Harry and Severus  
Dumbledore (ancient) dies. Upon death he immediately starts plans to make Severus and Harry miserable when they finally join him  
Lucius Malfoy (39) Dies at the Hand of Voldemort by poison  
Severus becomes Draco's Guardian  
Severus and Harry become Headmasters of Hogwarts  
George Weasley begins internship at Hogwarts_

1999  
Harry attacked by Death Eaters in the Castle  
Minerva McGonagall retires  
Flitwick takes over as Deputy Headmaster after Harry decides he's too young  
Harry takes over as Gryffindor Head of House

2000  
Harry sets the Reflecting Ward on the Castle

2001  
Harry and Severus Raise the Bower in the Grove

2002  
Hermione and Draco graduate from Oxford  
The Trio start their work on changing the law  
Severus defines the bloodlines

2003  
War breaks out in the Middle East

2004  
Harry takes over from Madam Hooch  
George Weasley takes over Potions

2005  
Seth Born

2007  
Hermione finishes the bloodline charts  
Flitwick retires as Deputy Headmaster; Harry takes the position

2022  
Multiple-Partner Marriage Law Passes  
Draco (41), Ron (41), and Hermione (41) marry

2023  
Neville Longbottom (42) and Ginny (41) Weasley marry  
George Weasley (43) and Agatha Levin (28) marry

2030  
Seth joins Hogwarts staff, replacing Poppy.

2043  
Molly Weasley dies in Muggle attack in London  
Severus begins plans to bring college courses to Hogwarts.  
Harry takes over as Potions master

2044  
Colin Longbottom born

2045  
Lenore Villins born

2048  
Harry (67) and Severus (89) rescue the children including Colin (4) and Lenore (4)

2049  
Severus (90) and Harry (68) adopt Lenore (5)  
Severus begins expansion of Hogwarts to include Primary School

2050  
Harry (69) retires his broom after near-fatal accident  
Severus makes peace with Arabella

2052  
Arabella (93) and Remus (93) marry  
Arabella "takes the bite"

2054  
War breaks out in Great Britain  
Arthur Weasley dies when Ministry is raided by Muggles  
Severus injured when returning a Muggle  
The Yanks enter the War

2055  
First Enclave of Wizards; the Exodus begins

2056  
Hagrid dies when Giant Enclave is attacked by Muggles

2059  
Dana born  
Exodus completed

2061  
Dana promised to Colin

2066  
Lenore hired as Severus' administrative assistant

2084  
Colin (40) and Dana (25) Marry

2085  
Draco and Severus begin work on Draconus Wards

2086  
Draco (105) dies while rescuing his granddaughter from the Muggles  
Draconus Ward Finished  
Harry and Sirius set the Wards

2087  
Harry collapses; Severus travels with Harry

2088  
Severus (127) travels with Harry (105)  
Colin (44) takes over as Headmaster temporarily  
Sirius (127) dies while rescuing a Wizarding family from the Muggles  
Draconus Wards completely set; Harry retires  
Remus takes over Defense Against the Dark Arts  
Colin takes over as Potions master  
Caballa and Abel marry and retire  
Lenore (43) and Seth (83) Marry

2089  
Harry begins his studies in light and sound

2090  
Altus and Althea Born

2098  
Sinistra (Ancient) retires  
Colin takes over as Slytherin Head of House

2100  
Harry and Severus celebrate the beginning of a new century  
Harry captures the memories with his new technique of merging film with the Pensieve.

2106  
Lenore dies of an unknown wasting illness

2108  
Severus' 110th Anniversary  
Colin (64) and Dana (49) take over as Headmasters of Hogwarts  
Harry (127) and Severus (149) die  
Ron retires from Aurors  
Seth (113) dies at grave side; he's too busy with Lenore to mess with Severus and Harry... yet

2109  
Ron (128) dies; Hermione (128) dies that night in her sleep--they join Draco and Albus in making Harry and Severus as miserable as possible

2156  
Colin and Dana die in a freak accident at the castle, crushed of course, they plot with The Trio and Albus  
Altus (67) and Althea (67) take over as Headmasters of Hogwarts

**The Inspiration**

_"Love Me When I'm Gone" by 3 Doors Down_

_There's another world inside of me that you may never see  
There's secrets in this life that I can't hide  
Somewhere in this darkness there's a light that I can't find  
Maybe it's too far away... Maybe I'm just blind..._

_Chorus:  
So hold me when I'm here, love me when I'm wrong  
Hold me when I'm scared and love me when I'm gone  
Everything I am and everything you need  
I'll also be the one you wanted me to be  
I'll never let you down even if I could  
I'd give up everything if only for your good  
So hold me when I'm here, love me when I'm wrong  
You can hold me when I'm scared, you won't always be there  
So love me when I'm gone_

_When your education x-ray cannot see under my skin  
I won't tell you a damn thing that I could not tell my friends  
Roaming through this darkness I'm alive but I'm alone  
Part of me is fighting this, but part of me is gone_

_Chorus_

_Maybe I'm just blind..._

_"Bring Me To Life" by Evanescence_

_How can you see into my eyes, like open doors, leading you down into my core where I've become so numb.  
Without a soul, my spirit's sleeping somewhere cold until you find it there and lead it back home._

_Chorus:  
Wake me up.  
Wake me up inside.  
I can't wake up.  
Wake me up inside.  
Save me.  
Call my name and save me from the dark.  
Wake me up.  
Bid my blood to run.  
I can't wake up.  
Before I come undone.  
Save me.  
Save me from the nothing I've become._

_Now that I know what I'm without you can't just leave me.  
Breathe into me and make me real.  
Bring me to life._

_Chorus_

_Bring me to life.  
I've been living a lie; there's nothing inside.  
Bring me to life._

_Frozen inside without your touch, without your love, darling;  
Only you are the life among the dead._

_All of this sight I can't believe I couldn't see,  
Kept in the dark but you were there in front of me;  
I've been sleeping a 1000 years it seems.  
I've got to open my eyes to everything.  
Without a thought.  
Without a voice.  
Without a soul.  
Don't let me die here.  
There must be something wrong.  
Bring me to life._

_Chorus_

_Bring me to life.  
I've been living a lie; there's nothing inside.  
Bring me to life--_

Really FINIS now.


End file.
